Moonlight and Shadows
by Ashita polar
Summary: After years on the run, Liz gets sucked into a whole different world when she breaks off with the main group and finds a love she never dreamed possible.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Moonlight and Shadows  
**Disclaimer: **The characters and concepts of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, and 20th Century Fox. The characters and concepts of Moonlight belong to Ron Koslow, Trevor Munson and CBS. No infringement is intended and I make nothing off this story. Just having a bit of fun.

**Pairings:** Josef/Liz, Mick/Beth; implied Mi/L and M/L  
**Rating:** Adult  
**Summary:** After years on the run, Liz gets sucked into a whole different world when she breaks off with the main group and finds a love she never dreamed possible.

* * *

**Prologue**

**I know what I used to be  
I know what I used to think  
I know what I would be  
Without your love in me  
**

_Chuck Palahniuk once said, "If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character...Would you slow down? Or speed up?" Lying here in his arms, the smell of singed flesh heavy on the air and the sweet, copper taste of blood on my tongue, as that same life giving liquid slowly drained from my veins, I couldn't help but stare at the stars overhead blankly, recalling all they took from me in my short life, yet they had also given me so much in return – love beyond my wildest teenage imaginings._

**See me through the eyes of grace  
See me through the cross of love  
See me not for what I was before your love in me**

_Blinking as my eyesight grayed and faded on the edges, I looked up into terrified, warm sienna irises and wondered for the hundredth time if I had done the right thing; made the right choice as consciousness began to slide away, the hot heavy burn of my blood searing me from the inside out. Blood spilled over his lips as he sliced through his arm, his heart thudding as mine slowed, grew sluggish, the blood in my veins nearly stilling as he hovered over me, desperately trying to save my life._

**I could set your soul on fire  
I could give you sweet desire  
I could make your spirit sing with my, my love in you**

_So much gained, so much lost – Michael was dead, slaughtered over a year before, killed by my enemy because he dared love a human, dared to love me. Max was dead too now, a pile of dust on the concrete, blowing on the wind. He at least got what he deserved in the end. And I'm dying. I know it; I can feel it slowly seep from my body as he continues his ministrations. I chose to die because life without the men that I love meant nothing to me._

**I could set your soul aflame  
Make you tremble at the name  
I can make you who you are with my, my love in you**

_Gasping, my back bowed as pain flooded my system, a white light flaring across my vision before I was bombarded with overwhelming stimuli, sight and sound crystallizing as I stood at the threshold between life and death, thousands of visions dancing through my mind as I clung tenuously to that fragile bond that held me on this plane. It's true what they say, at the edge of death, everything becomes calm, serene, clear; your life – the good, the bad and the ugly – flashes through your mind when it seems all is lost. It was that way for me, until everything cleared and I was staring at a face I loved more than life itself, soft brown eyes pleading for me to stay with him, as I grew limp in his arms, his name on the faint edges of my consciousness._

"_Josef."_

**Don't leave me now  
Don't fail me now  
You're all I see  
You're everything**


	2. Ghosts of the Past

"_Do not fear mistakes. You will know failure. Continue to reach out." ~ Benjamin Franklin. It's sage advice to give, but what happens when your mistakes irrevocably change the course of your life, bringing danger and death to your front door and that of your loved ones? What if the taint of that mistake is far ranging, threatens to encompass anyone that touches your life no matter how insignificant the interaction, just because you hold a secret that only a handful of allies have the privilege, or misfortune, to know? Would you reach out to others or shy away in order to keep them safe? I tried to do the latter, but in the end, fate intervened and wove a different tapestry…_

**Ghosts of the Past**

_Six months prior…_

Swirling her glass of champagne, Liz stared around the large room with a furrowed brow, searching for her friends Mick and Beth, whom she'd lost track of when a new wave of revelers spilled into the ballroom, feeling slightly disoriented and out of place in the opulent settings. After years of living hand-to-mouth on the run, her bed usually consisting of a sleeping bag on the hard, cold ground and fearing anything and anyone that got too close to her, the press of people made her queasy and set her heart pattering nervously, her lungs tightening as they clustered around her.

Licking her lips nervously, she cast a long, wistful look at the ballroom doors and squared her shoulders, determined to shake off this lingering feeling of crushing claustrophobia before she came to anyone's notice, forcibly reminding herself that she no longer had to fear the people around her. Liz Parker, her former self, had had been dead for almost a year, the victim of an explosion, and she had covered her tracks well, emerging as Elizabeth Jefferson from its ashes.

Yet, she couldn't help the panic that filled her throat when she felt invisible eyes press into the back of her neck as she walked through the room, casually sweeping her gaze over the crowd, all the while pushing back the acidic burn of terror threatening to overwhelm her, thwarting her attempt to remain anonymous in the throng. Taking a deep drag of the effervescent liquid in her glass, she swallowed harshly, letting the alcoholic beverage soften the edges of her mood and hopefully ease the tension that coiled just beneath her skin as predatory eyes continued to linger on her frame.

No one seemed to be paying her any mind, but she had spent too many years being aware of prying eyes for her to dismiss the feeling of being watched as paranoia; that gut instinct had served her well, ensuring her survival against the government and 'other' enemies and she wasn't about to ignore it now, no matter how good her new identity was. Inhaling deeply, she looked down, her mind reeling as she smoothed a hand over her burgundy, silk sheath dress nonchalantly, all the while glancing behind her through a veil of lashes, frustration rippling over her nerves when she found nothing.

Lifting her head, she moved through the room, putting distance between her and that heavy gaze, all the while wishing that there weren't so many people in the room, so she could use her empathic powers to detect her voyeur's intentions. But in her current sphere, the other revelers would muddle anything she detected. Maybe if she went out onto the balcony whoever had her in their sights would follow, and then she could narrow down their emotions and thoughts.

Flicking a casual glance over her shoulder, Liz separated from the crowd, setting her empty flute onto a passing tray and grabbing a full one as she headed towards the large glass doors, propped open to let the fresh California air waft through the room, warmed by hundreds of bodies in a confined space. Sipping the refreshing cuvee, she drifted across the floor with a feigned unconcerned, aimless gait, as one would searching for a friend, all the while making a beeline for the doors and the cool press of L.A. night, a slight shiver dancing over the curve of her spine as her ghost kept pace with her.

Crossing the threshold, her shudder intensified as a breeze slid over her bared neck, sending little wisps of ebony hair dancing, brushing against golden skin as she drew a deep breath and swept her gaze over the balcony to find a shadowed vantage point, rolling her shoulders slightly as she tried to push the panic away. Tilting her head to the right, she perked her ears and smiled, a wave of relief flooding through her as she finally caught sight of her wayward friends, and hosts in a way, since it was their friend's party she was crashing by their invitation.

Crossing the distance between her and the newlyweds swiftly, her smile deepened and she chuckled indulgently as her eyes traveled over the snuggling, and blissfully unaware, couple, obviously stealing a quiet moment to share a kiss or two in the darkened corner. Ah, marital bliss; it looked good on the pretty blond reporter and her tall, dark and handsome husband.

She remembered that look so well.

Looking away for a moment, her eyes prickled hotly as a face filled her vision, a slow, dull ache resounding through her heart as she heard Michael's voice in her mind and closed her eyes, impatiently brushing away the moisture at the corners. Heart heavy, she sunk her teeth into her lower lip harshly, letting out a little yelp of pain as her teeth tore through the tender flesh a bit and opened her eyes, steeling her spine and pasting a smile on her face as she continued over to her friends.

It wouldn't do her any good to get caught up in dashed dreams.

"There you are," Liz smiled, her eyes twinkling as the kissing couple startled and looked over at her sheepishly, Beth's cheeks taking on a rosy, happy glow as they disentangled themselves from one another and giggled when Mick smirked, kissing the tip of his wife's nose affectionately. Sliding up to them, she wrapped an arm around Beth and swung around, flicking her eyes over to the patio doors to see if anyone she recognized came out of the doors before turning back to her friends, teasing softly. "Didn't you get enough of that on the honeymoon?"

"One can never get enough of that," Beth smiled wickedly, tipping her head against Liz's and sharing a conspiratorial look as she nodded to her husband of two months, making the private investigator flush and look away as the girls laughed at his discomfort. Turning back to her friend, she smiled and touched her glass to Liz's for a moment before her asking curiously. "What happened to you? Last I looked, you were right behind us and then I turned around and you were gone."

"Yeah, I'm sure you really missed me," she retorted dryly, snickering when Mick just rolled his eyes and gestured to a passing waiter, asking for him to refresh his tumbler of scotch before turning back to the girls, wrapping his arm around Beth's waist as Liz smiled at them warmly and shrugged. "I got caught up in the latest rush of bodies as we walked by the doors and it took me a while to work myself out of the throng."

Liz's gaze slid away at that comment, avoiding Mick's far too observant eyes as she let it drift over the darkened area quietly, still feeling the press of eyes on her, but uncertain whom it was stemming from. Taking a deep breath, she focused on her friends, but dropped her shields, opening her senses and reached out, touching the different essences gathered loosely on the balcony, skipping over anything that was impersonal and unfocused, gasping slightly when she felt an intensely curious gaze flick over her.

"By the time the crowd cleared, you were nowhere to be seen," Liz continued as she kept her senses open, touching that mind softly, noting that while he seemed slightly bemused, she didn't detect any malevolence towards her and relaxed a touch, her shoulders loosing under the other gaze. Not an enemy, but an admirer. She could deal with that. "I should have known that all I had to do was look in all the dark corners for a couple joined at the lip, since that seems to be your natural state these days."

"Sickening, isn't it?" a low masculine voice rumbled against her ear, chasing a chill of awareness through her body and making things that she hadn't thought of in a while clench hotly as an unknown male came to a standstill directly behind her, his spiced-earthy scent wafting around her, making her head swim. Tilting her head, she gasped softly as warm damp breath coalesced over her neck and ear and swallowed thickly as the voice continued smoothly. "Although, they've always been that way."

Turning her head towards the voice, her heart jumped as intense, mildly curious dark eyes met hers, the soft, full lips hovering over hers for a moment scattering her thoughts before they curled in a bemused grin and pulled back, those damnable, irresistible irises traveling over her in admiration. Stomach swirling as his gaze heated, Liz licked her lips, her knees weakening as she bit back a groan and wondered what it was about whiskey-tinted eyes that held her in thrall every time.

~...~

Staring at the dark liquid in his tumbler, Josef fixed an unimpressed glance at the man who had been trying to wow him for the past five minutes with his knowledge of hedge funds, barely quelling the urge to roll his eyes and yawn. This was of course after the rotund, fawning man had spent several minutes gushing about how honored he was to have met the great Josef Kostan and he could now die a happy man after meeting one of the greatest financial minds of the decade. Personally, he wished he'd just die.

Why did he attract these soul-sucking sycophants? Didn't the man know the meaning of a party? He'd never understand the appeal of these humans outside a tasty snack.

Sighing internally, he tipped his head to Simone, whispering sarcastically in her ear as the man wound down and thankfully was distracted by a question from one of the other guests, allowing him to snake an arm around his lovely date and slip away unnoticed, her tinkling laugh bubbling up as they slipped into the crowd, snagging a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. Handing her the glass, he snagged a second as he yielded his tumbler, placing a hand on her lower back as they wove through the guests, nodding a greeting to various friends along the way.

Sometimes he really hated the necessity of these social gatherings and the endless drama, boredom and sucking-up they brought with them, having been through this far too numerous times to count over his 'lifetime.' Really, after four hundred years, the party scene grew stale and overblown. If it wasn't for the networking and potential for new business ventures, he'd give them up all together, preferring his private parties of willing, pretty donors in the comfort of his penthouse.

"I'll be right back," Simone murmured near his ear, gesturing toward the restroom as she slid out of his arm, tossing a sparkling smile over her shoulder as he raised his glass and saluted her, watching the subtle sway of her hips as she walked away, a smirk sliding over his lips as he looked away. Slipping back into the shadows, he flicked a bored look over the gathered crowd, making himself 'invisible' to prying eyes so that he wouldn't be subjected to yet another of his blathering guests.

The last thing he wanted was to listen to yet another blowhard tell him how to do his job or live his life, as his youthful appearance seemed to be an open invitation to those fatherly types wanting to take him under their wings. If they only knew his true age, they wouldn't be quite so patronizing. Actually, if it weren't for the messy fact he'd likely have to kill them to keep his secret, it would be amusing to watch their jaws drop as he explained that he was born four centuries ago.

So few things amused him these days.

Sighing wearily, he took a long drag of champagne, his senses sharpening when he felt a strange ripple of energy moving through the crowd, a small frown of concern flashing across his face as he turned his head slightly, his eyes lighting on a beautiful, petite brunette making her way through the milling guests hesitantly. Body tensing slightly, he watched as she seemed to wander through the room aimlessly, without a care in the world, but knew the moment she sensed his perusal by the subtle firming of her shoulders and the wary flick of ebony irises over the room.

Eyes tracing over the curve of her cheek, his heart started hammering as her face pinged something inside him, as if he had seen her before, but he couldn't quite place his finger on where or whom. Studying her profile, he drew a slow breath as he noted the delicate slope of her nose and the graceful arch of her brows as they pinched slightly, a tiny frown marring a pink, glossed mouth as she looked around questioningly, dark-chocolate eyes shadowed with unspoken fears as she swung her head in his direction.

Raising his brows in surprise, as she seemed to look right at him, he held his breath until she let her gaze drift over him without recognition, passing nearly right under his nose and making his body tighten imperceptibly as her perfumed skin teased his senses. Inhaling deeply, he bit back a groan as the sweet 'taste' of her blood plus the softer brackish 'flavor' of fear danced over his palate, making his mouth water and yet filled him with wariness as he tried to figure out what exactly she was.

Swallowing thickly, he kept his mantle of invisibleness cloaked around him as he pushed off the wall, forgetting his date entirely as he tracked the red-silk clad figure through the crowd, the knee length dress molding enticingly to subtle curves and flaring as she walked, her dark molasses tresses piled on the crown in a tumble of glossy curls, wisps teasing a graceful gold-toned neck. Halting as she paused to smooth her dress, he grinned when he saw her flick a glance behind her, obviously aware of his presence although she couldn't figure out what or whom it was coming from.

Lifting a manicured hand to his lips, he chewed on his thumb thoughtfully, wondering at the electric thrum of energy that flowed around her, a soft, fuzzy warmth that didn't feel quite human, but was too warm to be vampire either. If he were to associate anything with it, he'd think she was a shapeshifter, but they had died out centuries before. Besides, he knew all the vamps in the city and most vamps knew better than to move into his territory without first informing and meeting with him.

To do so, was a blatant challenge to his authority and as powerful as this girl felt, she was nowhere near the power level needed to challenge him. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he looked back up, frustrated when he realized she'd moved on without him and was slipping out the balcony doors, eliciting a distracted curse as he moved through the crowd, dropping his empty flute onto a passing tray as he hit the doors and flicked an agitated glance over the patio.

A flash of red caught the corner of his eye from the right and he exalted, a smile sliding over his face as he realized she was heading for his best friend and ladylove. So this was the guest that Beth mentioned when she called to RSVP last week, wondering if he'd mind if she brought her co-worker with her to the party since she was new in town and didn't know many people. Beth was hoping to get her out of her apartment and pull the woman out of her reclusive shell, as well as introduce her to a few of their mutual friends.

This evening just got a whole lot more interesting.

Stalking over to the laughing trio slowly, he watched the way her face lit up as she slid an arm around Beth's waist, obviously at home with both her and Mick given the way she teased them easily, her eyes sparkling as she and Beth managed to embarrass his best friend and make him glance away. Nodding to Mick as the other man caught sight of him, he shrugged when Mick quirked a curious brow, obviously picking up on his use of power to stay hidden until he was on top of his prey.

Slightly distracted, his stomach jolted as he felt a flutter of power touch his mind, the soft, almost imperceptible touch almost questioning his intent and halted, his gaze sharpening on the petite brunette once more, a bit awed that she managed to pull off this use of power without even flinching or giving herself up. Flicking a questioning gaze to Mick, he hummed in the back of his throat when his friend nodded imperceptibly, confirming his suspicions that it was the little girl in front of him sending off that wave of power.

Just as quickly as it came, the flutter was gone, obviously content that he meant her no harm and slid away, back into the pint-sized beauty who had captivated his interest from the first brush of her power and he continued his languid approach, a smile tugging his lips as he overheard her teasing comment to the newlywed couple. "I should have known that all I had to do was look in all the dark corners for a couple joined at the lip, since that seems to be your natural state these days."

"Sickening, isn't it?" he rumbled laughingly against her ear as he came to a standstill behind her, a curious ripple of awareness coursing over his body as she startled and backed into him, her curves pressing flush against him, as vanilla and jasmine, mixed with the sweet, intoxicating aroma of her blood filled his nose. Dipping his head, he brushed the soft shell of her ear lightly, delighting in the small shiver that traveled through her body and continued smoothly. "Although, they've always been that way."

God, her blood smelled incredible. So different from anything he'd ever experienced in his four hundred plus years. What was she? Who was she?

Drawing a deep breath, his heart thrummed as she tilted her head up, wide, wary chocolate-favored eyes clashing with his, her lips parting slightly as a strangled gasp spilled over them, dragging his gaze to the soft, plump flesh shining a delicate pink and hovering just inches below his. Swallowing thickly, his breath caught as she unconsciously shifted further into the cradle of his body and he could hear her heart speed up, her breath grow shallow and ragged in her lungs and her blood took on the scent of a rich dessert wine, making his head swim.

Mesmerized, he flicked his gaze back to hers, one hand resting on her waist as he noted the dilated pupils and the subtle rouging of her cheeks that alerted him that she found him just as attractive as he found her – he hadn't felt this way since…Christ, that's who she reminded him of. Sucking in a quick breath, he reeled internally as if sucker punched as he noted the similarities of her features, his fingers tightening slightly as he held her gaze quietly, soberly wondering how it was possible.

Finally becoming aware of the party swirling around him, he shook his head as a light cough caught his attention and he met Beth's amused and slightly curious gaze, smirking carelessly as she cocked an inquisitive brow. He stepped back, sliding his hands into his pockets, his mind whirling as he tried to figure out what exactly was going on with the petite brunette at his side, all the while, very aware of her thrumming heartbeat resounding in his head. She couldn't be, could she?

Flicking a contemplative glace her way, he made a mental note to find out more about the girl who had insinuated her way into his friends life over the past month and see if anything stood out. After everything that Mick went through with Coraline, he wasn't about to take chances of another potential threat; especially one that seemed directed his way this time. Elizabeth smelled and felt human, but he had thought that of Coraline and look what happened; she nearly got Mick killed because of his obsession to be human.

"Enjoying yourselves?" he drawled curiously as he turned and gestured to a passing waiter, looking at Beth in askance as he grabbed a flute of champagne and smiled when she shook her head politely, waving the offer off as his eyes were drawn back to his mystery woman. She was beautiful, and up close, he could pick up her unease around him by the sweet smell of adrenaline spiking in her blood despite her seeming unruffled appearance, which made him wonder what she was hiding behind the cool, placid façade and why he seemed to raise an alarm.

Grimacing as the bubbly refreshment slid down his throat, he wished his glass contained something sweeter, thicker and much more appealing than the alcoholic beverage, but he doubted he'd convince his guests it was a special Bloody Mary and he had to at least pretend he was somewhat human. Turning to the brunette, he caught her eye and held out his hand, smirking teasingly, instantly turning on the charm that had many a woman falling under his spell. "Since my friends are far too caught up in each other, let me introduce myself – Josef Kostan, your host for the evening."

"Oh, sorry Josef," Beth simpered sweetly, a pert smile slipping over her mouth as she continued to observe both his and her friend's reactions with an arched brow, a hint of amusement lacing her voice as he tossed her a sardonic grin, showing her that he didn't believe her act for a moment. He was far too used to the pretty blonde's scheming ways to believe that innocent look, although he had to wonder what she was up to as well. "This is my friend and co-worker, Elizabeth Jefferson. Liz, Josef Kostan, Mick's best friend and 'mentor' you could say."

"What? You don't consider us friends? I'm hurt, Beth," he laughed, fighting the urge to scowl when she mentioned him being Mick's mentor (read sire) as it seemed neither of his friends could resist needling him about being the one who re-turned Mick when Beth was in trouble not long ago. After sending the blond imp a chastising glance, he returned his attention to the pint-sized goddess watching them all with a puzzled smile, as if she picked up the undercurrents of their exchange but couldn't place her finger on the nuances, and took her proffered hand, lifting it to his mouth for a delicate kiss. "Enchanted, Elizabeth."

"Pleasure is all mine," Liz whispered, swallowing thickly as soft, full lips brushed over the back of her hand gently, a very simple, small caress in and of itself, but the look that accompanied the caress sent of jolt of awareness through her body, making her breath catch in the back of her throat as he smirked knowingly before drawing away. Licking her lips as he held her hand for a few seconds longer than polite, she drew back warily and kept her gaze anchored with his, her heart hammering in her temples as she murmured politely. "Thanks for the invitation."

"Any friend of Beth's, is a friend of mine," Josef replied softly, his lips still tingling at feel of her soft skin burning against his and barely quelled the urge to turn her arm over and place a kiss on the thin skin of her inner wrist, the intoxicating scent of her overwhelming all his senses. Rubbing his thumb over the aforementioned flesh, he grinned when her cheeks flushed and he detected the minute fluctuation of her breathing and heartbeat, prompting him to pour on the charm. "Especially lovely brunettes with a snarky sense of humor."

Dropping her hand reluctantly, he startled when he felt someone join him and turned to find a slightly annoyed Simone standing by his side, her dark eyes flicking between him and Elizabeth suspiciously and cursed internally, knowing her presence prevented any chance of finding out more about his mystery guest. He knew there was a reason he preferred to come to these things alone; he didn't have time for jealous, possessive females in his life.

"There you are," Simone stated smoothly, fighting back the surge of envy that flooded her when she saw Josef's reaction to the diminutive brunette as well as his flirtatious words just a moment before and her stomach sank, swirling sickly when her boss and date turned back to her coolly, an impersonal smile etched into his handsome face. Flicking a hateful look over the other woman, she pasted a brittle smile on her lips and turned back to Josef, trying to get her emotions under control, as she knew he'd detect her feelings and it'd put him off. "I wondered where you got off to."

"Sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew," Josef replied silkily, keeping his features carefully blank as he looked down on Simone, noticing her coloring and barely repressing a rueful chuckle as he took in the tumble of dark chocolate hair and brown eyes. What was it with him and brunettes? Allowing her to slip an hand into the crook of his arm, he shared a sardonic grin with Mick when Simone situated herself between him and Liz as he introduced them. "Elizabeth, this is my lawyer, who has so graciously conceded to be my date for the party, Simone."

"Nice to meet you," Liz smiled politely, holding out her hand in greeting, her eyes darting back and forth between the couple as she tried to figure out where they stood in each other's lives. From what she could discern, Simone seemed far more invested in the relationship and harbored not-so-businesslike feelings for the man, but he seemed oblivious of or was deliberately ignoring the flash of jealousy that sprouted in the other brunette's eyes.

"Likewise," Simone smiled thinly, giving Liz's hand a perfunctory shake before dropping it as if burned, watching as the other girl suppressed an amused grin before the lawyer turned to flick cool, aloof eyes over the party goers on the balcony, her brow pinching as she took a long sip from her champagne flute. Tilting her head up, she frowned slightly as Josef got caught up in watching Liz once more, his own brow furrowed as if puzzled and compressed her lips as she too looked away.

Liz ignored the obvious irritation stemming from the brunette at Josef's side, knowing that she hadn't done a thing to warrant the other woman's censure, having done nothing more than exchange some polite commentary, a ripple of apprehension tripping down her spine as she felt a heavy stare once more. When Josef came up, she had assumed that he had been the one watching her, but now she wondered if that were the case.

Shuddering imperceptibly, she frowned as she looked over the thickening crowd, wondering just who that hot, malevolent stare belonged to, paling when a familiar pair of eyes stared at her coldly before someone passed in front of them. Craning her neck, she searched the area frantically when the throng cleared, fear splashing through her chest when the spot she'd last seen him turned up empty.

~...~

He watched her quietly, his blood pulsing through his veins hotly as the other man charmed and wooed her, bowing over her hand so chivalrously as he pressed his lips to it, his eyes only for the petite beauty in front of him and it made _him_ seethe, quaking with a rage he couldn't describe and barely repressed as he stood in the shadows. Now wasn't the time to allow that cold, curling burn to take over and send him stalking over to the girl and her newest paramour, however, ripping them apart violently, effectively blowing his cover.

He'd spent too long observing her habits and planning her downfall to act so rashly. However, watching the host of the party simper over her like all the others that fell to her charms, made him sick to his stomach. He had no right to touch what was _his_ and she had no right to turn her gaze so charmingly toward someone other than _him_; blushing so prettily under the other man's appreciative gaze and charming manner.

Inhaling deeply, he smirked when another woman joined them, obviously the man's date for the evening, and his muscles relaxed subtly, his clenched hands unfurling as the woman pulled the jealous, possessive act and insinuated herself between his quarry and her date. She had the right idea; seemed like they were on the same wavelength when it came to other people touching their property. Licking his lips salaciously, he flicked his eyes back over to his prey, sliding a hot, fanatical gaze over the subtle curves, his lips curling when she shuddered slightly, her own gaze swinging over the party-goers as if she felt the weight of his gaze and a cold satisfaction rippled through him when their eyes clashed, terror flashing through shadowed irises.

Creamy skin blanched against the deep, blood red of her dress, setting off the wide, startled near ebony of her eyes and silky molasses hair touching her neck as she trembled like a scared rabbit.

He'd always loved that look on her.


	3. Risen from the Ashes

**AN:** So please forgive any grammatical or spelling issues, my beta is sick and hasn't had the chance to look at this chapter yet, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. I'll just make the changes later. Next up is chapter 16 of Hunted which is currently 16 pages and counting. I'm about 2/3 done with that chapter and hope to have it done and to whims (or another if someone is up to beta-ing a monster chapter in her absence) in the next few days. Anyway, hope you enjoy this next installment.

**AN2:** The words in the letter are an excerpt of Tennyson's _All Things Must Die_, and I in no way, shape or form claim them for myself. Don't own Moonlight or Roswell either, although I would love to borrow Josef and Michael. Please? I promise to treat them right. :) Also, a word of warning as I can't remember if I stated this before: This will have implied Polar and isn't a Max friendly story. I have many stories that are ensemble friendly, but this is not one of them. Just want you to be aware of that before getting to deep into it - if you're a dreamer or a Max fan, you probably won't like this story.

* * *

_Tom Stoppard wrote, "Dying is not romantic, and death is not a game which will soon be over...death is not anything…it's the absence of presence, nothing more…the endless time of never coming back…." Many people are drawn in by the glamour of the vampire life, the lure of eternity and the false sense of immortality, often blinding them to a cold, at times empty reality. I have no regrets for my existence and once turned, openly embraced the lifestyle, even derived a hedonistic pleasure from it some would say, but once in a while, you meet someone, a human, that makes you regret the choices you've made and has you wishing that forming attachments weren't so detrimental to your sanity. _

**Risen from the Ashes**

Staring out the window absently, Josef swirled the bourbon he'd been ignoring for the past thirty minutes, his mind miles, and centuries, away from his penthouse suite, he tried to puzzle out the few details he had on his guest. Elizabeth. He hadn't been able to put her out of his mind for the past week, something in her features or mannerisms pinging a long buried memory and teasing the back of his mind, until it finally came to him why she had looked so familiar.

The revelation had sent a thrill of both hope and unease through his system, making his stomach clench as he turned away from the L.A. night skyline to his desk, a stoic, intense expression on his face.

If he hadn't detected the distinct scent of warm, flowing blood in her veins, the life fairly teeming through it, hadn't tasted the thrumming beat of her heart on his tongue, he would have sworn that she was Avelina. She had the same look, the wide doe-eyes that swept the shadows endlessly, the same mass of dark chocolate waves and glowing, but hesitant smile, as if life had taught her that danger lurked in every darkened corner. The head tilt, the full swell of her lips and the way she chewed on it absently when deep in thought, the hand gestures – the resemblance was uncanny.

There were of course subtle differences, like the scar over her left brow, and Avelina's figure had been much fuller, curvaceous and lush, as was en vogue for the time period, and Elizabeth was definitely tiny, petite and slimmer than the other brunette, but things like that could be explained away by fashion and an accident after they had parted ways. And while she was more reserved than Avelina, she could be a damn near double.

There were only two problems with this picture – his sire was dead and had been for over three hundred years, and Elizabeth was human.

He thought.

Two years prior he never would have doubted that she was nothing more than a human woman that just happened to resemble someone he knew in his past. Everyone has a twin somewhere and the fresh, sweet, _alive_ scent radiating from her skin would have automatically clued him in that it wasn't Avelina. There was no cure for vampirism. But that was before Coraline had come back into their lives and fucked Mick, and the entire community, over with her temporary humanity fix.

Lance had confiscated the compound, promising to destroy that batch and lock the threat up where no other vamps could find it, but that didn't mean that there hadn't been more in production, making its way into the tribe. Who knows how many vamps Coraline had tempted with her little secret, buying favors and paving her way back into Mick's life; and she definitely had to do something big to quell the inevitable whispers of her survival. How she'd managed to keep her presence under wraps in a society known for gossip was beyond him, and had him worried.

He was wrong once before, and he'd hate to shunt aside his suspicions and make another mistake with this girl. She smelled human, but there was a strain of something that he'd never come across before and that, along with her appearance, unsettled him questioning his sanity and senses.

It couldn't be. And yet he'd felt the same instant draw centuries ago.

_He been conversing with his brother, boredom etched into his face as they talked about the days hunt and the running of their estates, ignoring the swirl of pastels surrounding them, eager mamas and the latest crop of hopeful, innocent misses looking for a proper match when he saw her. Crimson velvet flared in the hazy candlelight and caught his eye, the scent of smoke and incense filling his nose as dark eyes glittered from a fringe of sable lashes, red-tinted lips gleaming as the woman threaded her way through the crowd._

_Breath stalling as their eyes met, he shoved away from the wall, his brother's queries falling on deaf ears as he studied a delicate, heart-shaped face, the flames from a nearby candelabra lighting smooth, creamy skin touched with a light gold sheen before another reveler stepped between them, breaking the hypnotic glint in sherry-tinted irises. Craning his head around the obstacle, his brow furrowed when he came up empty-handed and she was nowhere to be seen._

_Spinning in a small circle, dark whiskey eyes danced over the gathering throng; oblivious to the attentive eyes flowing over him with a mixture of curiosity and blatant lust from the shadows, as he walked towards the last place he'd seen her, a frown marring his face. Slipping into a darkened room, his heart sped up slightly, the air crackling as the scent of jasmine and something elusive swirled around him, sending his senses swimming. She came this way; he'd bet his fortune on it._

_Following that elusive trail of scent, he slipped out the doors into the garden, smiling wolfishly as he caught a glimpse of scarlet skirts rounding a corner to his right, along with the glint of glossy, ebony curls as she disappeared from sight, the faint intrigued gleam in her eyes making his body tighten and mouth water with anticipation. Swallowing the last of his wine, he set his goblet aside and strode down the path towards his mystery girl, his heart thrumming rapidly as he imagined her pressed to the cool palace walls, her skirts bunched at her waist, the ties to her dress loosened and bodice slipping over tantalizing swells with him feasting on all that golden skin, her quiet gasps ringing in his ears._

_Licking his lips, he turned to the left and frowned as he found the path empty, devoid of her presence. Staring at the fork ahead of him, each path leading deeper into the estate gardens, he slowed his pace, wondering which darkened trail she might have taken, his body screaming in frustration when he came to a standstill, looking at both before instinctually taking the darker of the two. Shivering as the night grew silent and cool around him, he scanned the shadows for his elusive miss, breath hitching when a rustle at his left had him startling and he laughed mirthlessly when he saw a cat stalking its prey and couldn't help but feel a sort of kinship with the predator given his current activity._

_Smirking, he continued on his way, the lilting hint of jasmine teasing his nose as he turned away, inhaling sharply when he caught a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye, moving at an impossible speed, making his heart slam against his chest and his gut clench in fear, every muscle in his body tensing defensively as he braced for impact. Opening his eyes when it never came, he stared into amused brown eyes apprehensively, his breath releasing in a hot, heavy rush as he stared at the woman apprehensively, now on full alert and wondering when final blow would hit._

_Flinching when her laugh rippled through the night, he looked around warily, realizing how foolish he had been to follow her out into the night without a thought, leaving himself vulnerable to an ambush and he stepped back lightly, putting some distance between himself and the smirking female in front of him. Perking his ears, he couldn't pick up on any other presence, but that didn't mean anything and he decided to remain alert as he turned back to his enchantress._

"_Looking for me, my prince?" she murmured huskily, her eyes burning with a curious light as she stepped back into his personal space, crowding him just a touch and sending his heart tripping as she stared at his neck hungrily, a small pink tongue flitting over her lips slowly. Staring at her intently, his breath hitched when she stood on tiptoe and nuzzled her nose along the cords of his throat, flicking her tongue over his rapidly beating pulse like a cat and she whispered. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you…yet."_

_He leaned against the pillows, languorous after a bout of lovemaking as she flit around the room, her scent and the tantalizing hint of smooth, creamy skin flashing from her wrapper making his blood pulse with desire, spreading through it like a wildfire and made her tilt her head, her nose delicately sniffing the air as she walked toward him. Drawing a deep breath as burnt toffee eyes flicked over him hungrily, he shifted slightly as his body tightened in anticipation, his lids falling half-mast as she slowly tugged at the ties at her waist, letting cool, sage silk pool at her feet._

_Licking his lips, he let his eyes travel over her rounded form hungrily, letting them linger at high, full breasts before dipping over her slightly rounded stomach and the full swell of her hips before traveling back up to gleaming, dark eyes and parted red lips. Crooking his finger at her, he smirked when she tossed sable curls coyly, tipping her nose in the air haughtily before her lips curved into a sultry smile, her own lids falling half mast as she sank onto the end of the bed and leaned toward him confidentially. _

"_I have a secret…" she drawled, rolling onto her hands and knees, crawling over his body slowly, her fingers teasing his chest as she straddled him, rocking her body against him sinuously as she trailed soft, moist kisses over his neck, lingering over his pulse._

"_Do you?" he purred, rumbling in the back of his throat and tipping his head back, baring his throat to her questing lips, growling low when she pushed him deeper into the mattress and he wrapped his arms around her back, only to have her remove them, pressing his wrists into the bed as she writhed above him. Licking his lips, he murmured heatedly, antsy to see what game she had planned. "Pray tell, what is that, my beauty?"_

"_How about I show you instead?" she taunted, tossing her head back, revealing the soft, white of her neck as she shook her wild mass of curls down her back, her breasts thrusting out proudly to his ravenous eyes and his breath hitched when she tipped her head and studied him with equal desire._

"_By all means," he countered, lofting an amused brow, his heart speeding up when she smiled smugly, knowing she had him hooked and her eyes darkened with intent as she leaned over to him, hissing and baring her teeth. Fear splashed through his body, sobering him instantly as he watched her teeth elongate, his mind swirling with turmoil and yet, something deep inside his groin clenched hotly as he whispered in awe. "Bloody hell, what…are…?"_

"_Oh come now, you know what I am, darling boy," she mocked lightly, drawing one hand over his cheek, over his neck, to his shoulder, down his chest and finally anchoring lower, her talented fingers teasing the hard length of his erection as she brushed her lips over his ear and rasped, confident that she had him trapped in her web and he wouldn't be going anywhere. "You've known for a while."_

"_Vampire," he stated wondrously, his voice subdued, tight and strained with desire as she continued to stroke him lightly, making his muscles tighten and fire licked at his nerves as she lifted her hips, back bowing when tight, warm, wet walls slid over him, a low strangled moan ripping from his throat as she began to rock against him skillfully, leaving him breathless and panting. "What do you want?"_

"_You," she murmured, her lilting chuckle spilling over his skin like silk and caressing things it shouldn't be able to reach, scalding his blood even as her words sent his heart pounding in wary anticipation, her fangs dragging over his thrumming pulse tauntingly as she continued in a low, dark, smoky voice. "Don't worry, I just want to taste you, my little prince, not drain you. I have better uses for you."_

"_Yes," he growled, his head snapping back as her teeth sank into his neck at his assent, a cacophony of emotions raging through his body – lust, fear, love, wonder – as she sucked his blood down her throat, his mind hazing as white light exploded across his eyes, the ultimate pleasure ripping through him as his vision darkened and he blacked out._

_Pain seared through his side as he slumped to the cobblestones, his breaths shallow and rasping as he pressed his hand to his stomach, blood pooling in it, his body trembling as his head swam, his attacker now nothing more than a distant memory as Avelina exacted her own brand of justice, worrying his neck like a wild animal, the footpad's blood trickling over her mouth and throat. He hit the stones, his hands and knees taking the full brunt of impact, shaking his head to clear it of the haze that clouded it, a rueful grin slipping over his lips as he stared out into the night._

_Struggling to draw air into his lungs, he winced as his pain radiated through his chest, blood bubbling over his lips as he coughed weakly, a dim resignation washing through his system as he realized that he'd never survive his wounds. Flopping onto his back, he stared into the night sky, his thoughts swirling in an endless circle, regret, and other dark emotions, bubbling in his gut as he wondered if there was such a thing as an afterlife and whether he really wanted to know._

_Gasping, he choked on his own blood and the stagnant stench of water and decay around him, flinching when a soft hand pressed against his wounds, worried dark eyes filling his vision as Avelina leaned over him, his heart pounding sluggishly against his breastbone. Smiling ruefully as he saw confirmation flash in her eyes, he cupped her cheek, stroking the soft skin as he drew another labored breath and was working up the energy to express his wishes when she leaned over, whispering in his ear._

"_The kiss of immortality is yours," she murmured, pressing her lips to his, tears streaming over her cheeks as she stared into glazed whiskey-tinted eyes, her fingers stroking his neck gently, giving him one last option to opt out. "You say the word, I will give you eternal youth."_

"_It is my wish," he murmured weakly, his vision dimming as she leaned over him, her fangs scraping lovingly over his neck, hesitating only the faintest moment, before sinking into his flesh, the sting making his back bow. "You know this was the plan; turn me."_

Slumping into his plush leather chair, Josef rested his chin against his clenched fist thoughtfully, chewing on his thumb as he stared out into the sparkling night, the whole of his domain laid before him, pulsing with life as humans scurried about their lives, unaware of the predator's regard. It had taken him forever to get over what happened to his sire and lover, leaving him alone after a hundred years of companionship; not to mention the centuries it had taken him to build his reputation and power base enough to wrest this city away from its master fifty years prior; he couldn't afford to let this slip by as a coincidence after Coraline's miraculous resurrection.

He had too much on the line, both personally and 'professionally.'

Spinning towards his desk, he pressed down on his intercom impatiently, waiting from the smooth, cool voice of his assistant to buzz over the line, his mind swimming with turmoil as Elizabeth's pretty face flashed before his eyes, sending a wave of heat, as well as a hint of dread, snaking through his body. Yes, there were differences between her and Avelina, but he was a cautious vampire by nature given all he's seen and done through his 'lifetime' and there was enough of a similarity that he wasn't about to let this go.

"Get me Ryder," he commanded, he voice leaving no room for negotiation as he spoke into the intercom, smirking when his assistant stumbled to comply, hurriedly dialing the number of his best, and favored, computer tech. It was time to find out all of the little mortal's secrets before they could potentially come back to haunt him.

~...~

Groaning heartedly, Liz slunk out of bed, her head throbbing slightly as she stumbled to her kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out of her fridge before shuffling over to her cupboard, seeking out the small, white bottle of pills that would give her relief from the dull pain in her temples. She should have known better than to drink so heavily when she was out with Beth given how alcohol affected her enhanced nature, but after seeing _him_ at the gala, she had needed something to dull and take off the edge of her panic, leading her to drinking far more than was safe for her system.

How did he find her? She'd gone to vast extremes to make sure he'd never catch up to her after the last time. He had no reason to believe that she'd survived.

Worrying her bottom lip in her teeth, she popped the aspirin into the back of her throat, swallowing them down with a quick swig of water. She knew that the pills wouldn't have much of an affect, but they would take the edge off until she could re-hydrate and get her body back into balance. Walking over to her window, she stared at the busy street, a shiver sliding over her spine as her gaze flicked over the shadows, wondering if he really was in town or it was just her overactive imagination playing tricks on her.

She had been getting lax after a year of freedom; a year of certainty that he'd never find her again, and now she had to wonder if he had just been playing a game, waiting for the moment when she finally let her guard down, let people back into her life, to give him an incentive to destroy her once more. Pushing away from the window, she shook off her dark thoughts, trying to ignore the dread pooling in her gut until she had more proof it was he and not something completely innocuous.

She hated that hunted feeling that never seemed to leave her no matter how far she got from Roswell.

Sighing deeply, she sank down on the couch, lying back against one of the brightly-colored pillows she bought to accent the deep cream material and closed her eyes, mulling over the party and everything that happened, trying to detect when that niggling sense of being watched came about. She had first thought it was just the crowd that was making her uneasy, all those bodies pressed in a confined space making her nerves stand on end because it jammed her senses and dulled her ability to detect a threat.

And then she though it might have been Mick's friend and his far-too-interested gaze that had sent her empathic senses reeling. Nibbling on her lip, her body tightened and flushed as darkened whiskey eyes flashed behind her lids, the memory of his breath against her ear drawing a low moan of frustration past her lips and she huffed, slightly irritated at her reaction, the way he had so easily crept under her skin.

Opening her eyes, she stared at the ceiling as if seeking answers, her fingers combed through her hair absently, her lip clenched firmly between her teeth and couldn't help but wonder what it might be like to have those impossibly soft, irresistible lips pressed to hers; couldn't help but wonder if he'd taste like a mix of the champagne he'd been sipping and that underlying, tantalizing whiff of spice she detected on his skin.

Rolling her eyes at her absorption with Josef, she went back to her former musings, intent on figuring out what exactly had made her feel like Little Red Riding Hood caught between a rock wall and the big bad wolf. Certainly Josef had that predatory air that would make any woman wonder at her safety (and sanity), but that didn't explain the fear that skittered over her nerves. With Josef, she might be in danger of falling for his smooth, well-planned seduction, but he didn't seem to have any malicious intent and she didn't feel he was a threat to her physically.

She hoped. Or maybe she'd like it if….

Gritting her teeth against her straying thoughts, she once again forced herself back on task, flopping her arm over her eyes as she drew in a deep breath, willing her tense muscles to relax and her jumpy nerves to calm as she rolled the night over, those familiar, once beloved eyes burned into her brain, sending a shudder over her spine. Fighting the rising well of panic, she clenched her fingers into a fist, a low whimper of pain rippling over her lips as that gaze brought back painful memories.

She hadn't felt this helpless in years.

_Casting a wary glance at the closed bedroom doors, she tiptoed down the hall silently, her shoes crammed into a single bag as she made her way through the sleeping house, wincing, and pausing for a moment, when a board creaked underfoot, making her swing her head back along the darkened passage, praying the sound wouldn't alert the others to her movements. Holding her breath, muscles taut and strained, she waited several moments, her stomach clenched with dread as she studied the still contents before relaxing minutely when nothing happened._

_Drawing a deep breath, she continued through the house, laying her bag on the couch for a moment as she hurried in the den, quickly opening a panel in her desk, where she'd been secreting a few dollars every week for months in preparation for her escape out the hell that had become her life. Grabbing the thick wad of bills and the newly forged identity (at least some good came from her changed status) she had stuffed in there, She pocketed the ID before she threw the money and other papers into her bag, quickly zipping it closed._

_Surveying her surroundings, she went over her mental list once more, satisfied she hadn't forgotten anything, and heart pounding in her ears, she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, walking silently to the front door, thankful she had the presence of mind to leave it slightly unlatched before bedding down for the night. Opening it, she flicked her eyes over the house once more, guilt fluttering in her stomach as she thought of everyone she was leaving behind – Isabel, Kyle…Michael – but steeled her resolve, creeping out the door and closing it with a decisive but quiet snick._

_Breathing freely for the first time since she began her flight from the nightmare that had been slowly choking the life out of her, she strode down the walk quickly and efficiently, walking away in the dead of night, leaving her car and former identity behind so she wouldn't be tracked. And completely unaware of the smoldering whiskey eyes watching her from the second story window, already planning to follow. _

_She stared up at him in utter disbelief, fear and happiness ringing through her body as burnt caramel eyes flitted over her covetously before strong arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her against his body, a deep relief and annoyance etched into his face as she shook her head silently, too overwhelmed to speak at his sudden appearance. Leaning into him, she closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing herself to relax as his familiar, spicy scent filled her nose and brought her a small measure of peace. It had been far too long since she had felt his arms around her._

_But at the same time, his presence disturbed her because usually where he went, the other's soon followed and she couldn't face that; she couldn't go back to that life no matter what his fearless leader wanted. Shoving him away, she compressed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest defensively and she scanned the area, all the while battling that well of panic that filled her when he'd first called her name, making her snap waspishly. "What are you doing here, Michael?"_

"_You're a hard woman to track down, Parker," he replied quietly, his eyes flicking over her coolly as he shoved his hands into his pockets and he leaned against the building, his expression unreadable as he deliberately avoided her question. Liz drew a deep breath, her eyes still scouring the shadows for Max, not quite believing that Michael was alone._

"_It's…Michaels now," she huffed, her cheeks flushing when his eyes sparked curiously at that mention and let her gaze flit away, flicking toward her office building warily and prayed that no one overheard the use of her old name. The last thing she needed was people wondering why he was called her Parker since went by Elise Michaels. "And that was the point. What are you doing here?"_

"_Michaels?" he asked gruffly, his voice giving away a faint hint of pleasure at the idea that she carried his name in some way despite his stoic resolve. Swallowing thickly as he shoved off the wall, her breath hitched and heat flooded her system as she watched him walk over to her slowly, her heart thrumming as he crowded her against the cool concrete._

"_Yeah," she replied breathlessly, licking her lips nervously as he leaned over her and removed one hand from his pocket to idly trace a path over her neck, molten brandy irises watching her reaction intently, a smirk flitting over his lips when she expelled a shaky breath, her voice cracking as she continued. "I figured it's the last thing Max…would expect. And you didn't answer my question."_

"_I should think that's fairly obvious, **Michaels**," he taunted softly, placing a slight emphasis on her last name, a wolfish smile curving his lips when she tried to back away, only to hit the wall solidly as he boxed her in and halted her escape, thoroughly enjoying her obvious discomfort. _

"_Stop saying it like that. Someone might overhear and it will blow my cover; I have no intention of going back," she hissed, flicking a wary glance over at some emerging co-workers, smiling weakly when one arched an eyebrow at her and Michael's position. Huffing when Michael scowled at the other man, she waited until they walked away before she hit him on the arm and spat. "So if that's what you planned, you might as well turn around now. Otherwise, I will disappear and you will never find me."_

"_You know that's not true," he scoffed soberly, reminding her of the reason why she would never be totally free of the man in front of her with those carefully veiled words, a deep, burning knowledge filling his eyes and making her look away uneasily._

"_What, that you're Max's lackey and planning to drag me back to that suffocating hellhole?" she retorted weakly, hating him for reminding her of the metaphysical bond they shared and just how easy it made from him to track her down. In fact, she was shocked it had taken him this long to show up, yet it gave her hope that his waiting meant that he shook their ever present specter. "Been there, done that. Or did you conveniently forget seven months ago?"_

"_I'll never forget that night," He murmured heatedly, his steely tone drawing her eyes back to him and her throat tightened, her breath growing shallow and ragged as his nose touched hers, their lips just a breath a part as he whispered brokenly. "**He** followed **me**. Had I known, I never would have…I just wanted to make sure you were safe. But that's not what I meant and you know it. You can't hide from me. What happened that night prevents it, and well you know it, Liz."_

"_You shouldn't be here," she whispered against his lips, the fight going out of her as she traced her fingers over his chest absently and their gazes met and held, the air in her lungs ripped away when he cupped the nape of her neck, electricity dancing through her veins when he whispered just before claiming her lips. "I have no where else to go; no where else I'd rather be and I'm not leaving, so deal."_

"_Mmmmm…that was nice," she sighed, her body limp and sated as she snuggled up to Michael, purring in the back of her throat when his fingers brushed over her back softly, his face buried into the tangled molasses strands falling over her neck and she couldn't keep a low moan from bubbling over her lips when he kissed it softly._

"_Nice?" he rumbled, his voice taking on a feigned disgruntled tone as he rolled her over onto her back, his lips nipping at her neck gently, delighting in her strangled gasp as he trailed his lips over the soft, vanilla-tinged skin, lofting teasingly. "We just had the best sex of my life, complete with alien perks and all you can say is it was **nice**?"_

"_Like you need another ego boost," she snorted, squirming in his arms, the breath rushing out of her lungs as his weight bore down on her, pressing her deeper into the mound of blankets and sheets beneath them, her words coming out a little breathlessly as she snarked. "Besides if you haven't figured out how good you are at that by my reactions, I don't know what to tell you."_

"_But I love it when you stroke my ego…" he returned glibly, a sultry smirk sliding over his lips at her sharp inhalation of breath when he rocked against her languidly, his hands tracing a searing path along ribs as he crushed her to him, their hearts hammering against one another as he captured her mouth in a sweet, languorous kiss, a soft groan ripping from his throat as their tongues tangled and mated._

"_You are such a pig sometimes," she snickered affectionately when they broke apart for much needed air, her nose wrinkling in mock disgust at his hearty chuckle, rolling her eyes when he waggled his brows at her suggestively and grinned unrepentantly. "Why do I put up with you again?"_

"_You know you'd be bored without me," he smirked as he pulled away, cupping his chin in one hand as he studied her affectionately, his eyes twinkling with mirth as she stuck her tongue out at him. Smiling, he dipped down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before arrogantly stating. "And one cannot deny the appeal of an hour-long hang time. Where else are you going to find that kind of staying power?"_

"_Damn it, I hate when you're right," she pouted petulantly, her eyes sparkling when he rolled over, taking her with him so that she was splayed against his chest, a soft, breathy sigh rippling over her lips when he rocked his hips into hers tauntingly, scattering her thoughts completely. "Oh…do that again. You really are spectacular at that."_

"_I know," he replied, his lips twisting smugly at her blissful expression before his eyes and mouth softened and he ran his fingers through her hair, a sweet fire zinging through her veins as their skin slid together. Curling her fingers into the sheets, she sighed happily, dropping her cheek to his chest, her eyes drooping lazily as she listened to its slow, steady thrum. "Liz?"_

"_Hmmm?" she mumbled, tracing abstract patterns over his smooth, taut chest, relishing the little hum of pleasure in the back of his throat as she teased him softly and tipped her face to meet his intense whiskey-flavored gaze, her heart stuttering at his softly uttered words. "I love you."_

"_I love you, too," she smiled, reaching up to gently press her lips against his, whimpering softly when his fingers tangled in her hair and he dragged her up his body, deepening the caress heartily as the sun rose and spilled over them gently, fulfilled and content for the first time since free-falling into the alien abyss._

Swiping her fingers over her face, she jumped and sat up when a rap at the door yanked her from the bittersweet memories, the sting of tears in the back of her eyes as she tried to pull herself together long enough to answer it, a thread of unease coursing through her veins as got off the couch. Walking toward the door cautiously, she looked through her peephole, a frown marring her face when she couldn't see anyone there and opened the door hesitantly, peering out both ways.

Compressing her lips in annoyance, she sighed and started to close the door, chalking the knock up to a prank or her imagination, when something on the stoop caught her eye, drawing her puzzled gaze to her feet. Cocking her head, she stared at the slim, white envelope apprehensively, her heart thundering in her ears when she saw her name printed on the outside in a familiar scrawl, her cheeks and lips paling as her head snapped up and she scanned the area frantically, her lip clenched nervously between her teeth.

Stooping hesitantly, she picked it up with trembling fingers, her breath coming in harsh, heavy pants as she flipped the envelope over and stared at it as if it were a viper waiting to strike. Squaring her shoulders, she set her jaw determinedly and ripped it open, not about to play his little games; if it was him, he was trying to intimidate her and she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of backing down.

Pulling out the sheet of blue paper impatiently, she opened it, flicking the paper as she smoothed the creases and blanched, inhaling sharply, its poisonous words blurring before her eyes as she read them, lips trembling as a sharp pain lanced her heart:

_**Hark! death is calling  
While I speak to ye,  
The jaw is falling,  
The red cheek paling,  
The strong limbs failing;  
Ice with the warm blood mixing…**_

_**Ye will come never more…**_

_**Death waits at your door.**_

Swaying dizzily, she collapsed against the doorjamb, shaking her head in disbelief as fear splashed through her body and chilled her to the bone, tears coursing down her cheek as she stared at a lock of dark-blond hair, the air sucked out of her lungs as she recalled the numerous times she had ran her fingers through it lovingly.

_Michael._


	4. Diabolus Venatus

_Paul Carvel said it best when he theorized, "Passion is a positive obsession. Obsession is a negative passion." Obsession is often described as the__ persistent and disturbing preoccupation with an often-unreasonable idea or feeling. Many people mistake obsession for true love – both have that burning need to be with the object of one's desire, both consume the person within its grasp, but unlike real love, obsession holds the single-minded, selfish desire to possess, control, objectify and subjugate another; to bend and shape the 'beloved' to the oppressor's will or whim. I thought I had found true love at sixteen, when a special boy brought me back from the brink of death, but that was nothing more than a mirage that quickly degenerated into an all-encompassing sickness… _

**Diabolus Venatus**

Liz stared at the jewelry case blankly, her mind miles away as Beth looked over a selection of pocket watches for Mick, a gift she was planning to celebrate when they first met and he became an active part of her life. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth at her friend's enthusiasm, and she shook her head affectionately as the blond reporter bit her lip in concentration as she bounced back and forth between the final two, undecided as to which would better suit her husband. She was expecting to be dragged into this conversation before too long, but remained silent for the time being.

Touching the locket under her shirt absently, she swallowed thickly, chocolate irises misting as the gold seemed to burn her fingers making her look away hastily, desperately hiding the swirl of turbulent emotions that she had been dutifully quelling over the past few days for her own peace of mind. _Michael._ Would there ever be a day when it didn't hurt to think of him? Closing her eyes against the hot sting of tears, she let out a measured breath so she didn't alert the giddy Beth to a problem, and stroked the heart she'd kept carefully hidden since the day Michael had given it to her.

...

"_Michael, while I enjoy our aimless rambling," she teased lightly, a shiver dancing over her spine as she huddled __deeper __in__to__ the deep blue parka she'd thrown on when Michael had asked if he could talk to her away from the house the group had been nesting in for the past three months. But so far, he had remained his ever stoic, quiet self. "Maybe you can tell me why we're walking in the middle of nowhere at one in the morning in the middle of winter__,__ instead of __remaining __curled up in front of the fire like most sane people."_

"_Impatient much, Parker?" he smirked, meeting her gaze for a moment before turning back to the winding path in front of them, kicking at the light dusting of snow that littered the ground and sigh__ing__ while __scratching at his brow absently._

"_Hello, pot, kettle, black?" she snickered, poking him in the side lightly __and__ smiling sunnily when he feigned a scowl that melted into a rueful grin as she wrapped her arms around her middle and pouted. "It's cold, Michael and unlike you're nifty alien genes, I don't have the ability to think myself warm. Just a lowly human here."_

"_Nothing lowly about you," he murmured under his breath, the words barely audible as something flashed in his eyes, raising the tempo of her heart before he looked away and stared out over the woods, his features schooled into a bland mask._

"_What?" she whispered hesitantly, halting in the middle of the path to stare at him bemusedly, her breath catching when he halted in turn, warm, spiced-brandy eyes flitting over her shivering form contemplatively before he walked over to a fallen log at the edge of the path and sat down, holding his hand out to her. "Nothing. Come here."_

"_So, you wanted to talk?" she asked, trying to get her system under control as she sat next to him, swallowing thickly when he wrapped an arm around her and drew her into his side __making her__smile__ gratefully, huddling into his warmth as he reached into his pocket while she settled in._

"_Yeah, I…uh…," he stammered quietly, pulling out a brightly wrapped box about two inches by three inches and holding it in the palm of his hand, scratching at his eyebrow absently as he held it out to her with a shrug. "I wanted to give this to you away from the rest of the group."_

_Liz looked at the shiny blue and silver paper, a simple blue bow adorning the box, her brow creased faintly in confusion before she turned her bewildered gaze to the tall, silent alien at her side __and reached__ for the gift __hesitantly, dropping__ her gaze back to the package when he fidgeted __uncomfortably__. Tracing the swirls on the paper, surprise, and something she refused to identify, coursed through her body as she studied it; Christmas was still days away, but it was just like Michael to do this with as little fuss as possible, especially after how clingy Max had been lately despite the end of their relationship. _

"_It's nothing big," he rambled cutely, obviously a little worried about how she'd receive the gift, eliciting a soft smile from her as she delicately unwrapped the paper, folding it meticulously and putting it in her pocket to save for later. Turning her attention to the box, she carefully opened the white paper box as he continued nervously. "But I saw it and thought of you."_

"_Oh, Michael," she gasped, staring at the heart-shaped locket with wonder, her eyes tearing slightly as she traced the smooth front, turning it in her fingers to see the words 'Forever in our hearts' engraved on the back. "It's beautiful."_

"_Open it," he commanded quietly, the faintest rasp of emotion in his voice as she did as he instructed and her hand flew __to__ her lips as she stared at a smiling face, the __boy's__ bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "I know you don't have many pictures of Alex, so I made a copy and placed it in there. So you can keep him close to your heart."_

"_Thank you," she rasped huskily, tears clinging to her lashes and voice as she threw her arms around him, wrapping him in a tight embrace and press__ing__ a soft kiss to his cheek before burrowing her face into his neck, overjoyed at the thoughtful gift. "I love it."_

_...  
_

Shaking her head at the memory, she swallowed thickly, startling when Beth called over to her, and hoped that her friend hadn't been trying to get her attention while she was lost in the sweet visions of yesteryear. She usually tried desperately not to recall those times, because it made the loss of Michael all the more difficult to face, but after receiving that note and the lock of hair, now safely tucked in the same locket (both of her favorite men tucked close to her heart now), she had spent more and more time lost in memory.

"Liz, Earth to Liz," Beth called with mock exasperation, her eyes glinting with affection as she reached out and dragged the petite brunette over to the jewelry case, hiding the flash of concern at her friend's wan, pinched features with bright, bubbly chatter, all the while filing away the sheen of tears in her typically sober gaze for later inspection.

"I can't decide which one I like best, so you need to help me. Which one screams Mick to you? I like this one; it has a nice clean feel to it," Beth noted, pointing to a plain gold, flip-top casing with clean lines with a slight frown before turning to the other watch, her face softening as she stoked the silver watch with an art deco feel. "But this one is a refurbished, 1950s Ingersoll Triumph that…"

"Just screams Mick," Liz finished with a droll smile, shunting aside the morbid, fragile feelings that had been suffocating her for days for the moment and ignoring the touch of confusion in Beth's cerulean eyes as she focused on the watch and the joy of the moment, teasing the blond gently. "As if you didn't already know that."

"Well, yeah," the blonde agreed grudgingly before a grin flashed over her face, shrugging unapologetically at having been caught out, and studied the other girl thoughtfully, noting the dark circles under eyes; ones she hadn't had just three weeks ago when they had all gone to Josef's party. In fact, she had noticed Liz acting off after introducing her to Josef. At first she thought it might have been because of the obvious electricity and chemistry that had flowed through her friends, but now she wondered if there wasn't more to it. "But I wanted a second opinion. I want everything to be perfect for that night."

"He's going to love it," the brunette assured with a smile, staring at the watch Beth decided on, rolling her shoulders to ease some of the tension gathered at the back of her neck as Beth told the salesgirl to wrap up the Ingersoll. "Not that he wouldn't love anything you by him. Seriously, I haven't met a man more besotted."

_Except for Michael._

But then again, Michael had always put his whole heart into everything, no matter what how many time people mocked him for being closed off. You just had to know what to look for, and have the ability to read his actions. She didn't know another person who so obviously wore his heart on his sleeve like the tall, stoic alien had.

Closing her eyes to the flash of pain the sliced through her heart, she took a ragged breath, biting back the nearly overwhelming roll of grief as she squared her shoulders and turned back to Beth, smiling sadly when her friend's light laugh bubbled over lips at the salesgirl's comment, the shine of love resting becomingly on her cheek and in her eyes.

When she first met Beth, she avoided the vivacious reporter, assuming that being around someone so obviously in love would remind her of everything she had lost, but instead of bringing sorrow and pain, being around her and Mick was a balm to her battered heart, reminding her that there was such a thing as happily ever after for some. If only it had been that way for her and…well it never paid to dwell on things that couldn't be.

Flicking her eyes over the street, she shivered as she turned her thoughts back to the letter. She knew it was Max, everything in her gut screamed that he had to have finally tracked her down, if he hadn't known where she was the entire time. What she couldn't figure out was why now? Why did he initiate contact after a year of silence? Had it taken him that long to track her down, or was there something more behind his sinister actions? He hadn't initiated anything since leaving his reminder of how fragile life was, but she couldn't help the feeling of eyes on her all the time, leaving her strung out and anxious.

Drawing a shuddering breath, the bitter taste of fear coated her tongue and the back of her neck prickled as if a hot, heavy wind had blown across it, or really, a hot, predacious gaze that never seemed to leave no matter where she tried to hide. That hunted feeling had never fully left her from her days on the run from unscrupulous aliens and a government that saw her as either an abomination or the perfect guinea pig, and she was glad for it; it kept her alive more times than she could count.

But never had it been stronger than now, just when she'd finally thought she could leave it all behind. Typical.

Startling when a hand grabbed her arm, she let out a small cry and then flushed hotly when Beth looked at her funny, embarrassed that she had allowed anyone to sneak up on her and catch her unawares. If this kept up, her stalker was going to have no trouble cornering her if she didn't keep her senses honed and wits about her; she couldn't afford to let her guard down so long as Max was still alive and she was still on the government and Antar's most wanted dead or alive list.

Blue eyes full of questions, Beth studied Liz's tense, panicked countenance and narrowed her gaze suspiciously, wondering what had the other woman on edge; she knew that look all to well from the stories she had collected when she was covering the Seaside Stalker story, and her reporter's mind couldn't help but wonder if her new friend was a victim herself. Opening her mouth to ask what was wrong, she sighed when Liz pulled away abruptly, an all too familiar blank slate replacing the electric fear as the brunette flashed a weak smile and asked lightly. "Ready for lunch?"

"Yeah, sure," Beth replied, letting her suspicions rest for the moment and linking her arm with Liz, she pulled the other woman along with her out onto the street, a cheerful grin curving her lips as they walked. "Have you ever been to Urth?" she asked, nodding when Liz shook her head in negation. "We have to go there then. It's an organic café that specializes in coffee and hand-selected teas, but they have this amazing potato-leek soup and pastries to die for if you have a sweet tooth."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Liz lofted, grinning at the vivacious blond, desperately trying to quell the cold, anxious chill that snaked it's way down her spine as eyes seemed to follow her every movement. Swallowing harshly, she flicked a glance over her shoulder, scanning the shadows for her tormentor and growling mentally when she came up empty once more before she turned back to Beth placidly. "I'm starving."

~...~

Josef watched the two females pensively, wondering for the tenth time in as many minutes why he was here when he had other things he could be doing. But, ever since his confrontation with Simone at the office, he had been roaming the halls restlessly, unable to find anything to hold his interest or distract him, which led him here – playing peeping Tom on his best friend's wife and her beautiful brunette side kick.

...

_Josef arranged the beautiful __blonde__ on his lap, a wicked smile sliding over his face as he trailed soft, teasing kisses over the curve of her neck, his senses heating as the sweet scent of her enjoyment coursed through her blood and '__flavored'__ it until it was as rich and decadent as a forty-year-old, tawny port. Licking his lips in anticipation, he vamped out, enjoying the little catch in her throat as he dragged his teeth over her pulse point, sending the already rapid, thready flutter into a higher tempo, making her skin flush the delicate pink of blood rushing to the surface._

_Of all the things he enjoyed about being a vampire, this euphoric rush, tinged with the faintest hint of fear, was the best. His girls had long-since learned that he no intention of hurting them, and in fact, wanted them to derive as much pleasure from the feeding as he did, but even the most secure and practiced freshie couldn't help that hint of fear that this time he might go a little too far, take a little too much blood and bring them over. It would never happen, but freshies by nature, were adrenaline junkies and got off on the possibility he could lose control one day._

_Sinking his teeth into her neck, he moaned quietly as the first, sweet rush of blood flowed over his tongue, filling his palate with the rich, nutty and sugary taste of his favorite blend, making his head swim, a heady flush of sensation swirling through it as he drank down the life giving force. Some vamps complained about the lack of variety in their diet, but to him, there was nothing better than the taste of AB negative flowing fresh from the tap, heightened by endorphins and adrenaline as the girl in question curled her fingers into his shirt, gripping it for dear life as her pulse slowed a touch. _

_He really didn't get Mick's squeamishness when it came to feeding live. He couldn't imagine dining any other way._

_Startling when his door opened, he gently pulled away from the freshie and flicked a heated glare over at the intruder, irritation crackling over his nerves at the interruption, especially when he saw Simone standing there, her lips compressed in a thin line. Growling internally, he turned back to the girl perched on his lap, flicking his tongue over the puncture marks to gather the last, trickling drops of blood, __effectively__ closing the wounds before pressing a soft kiss against his mark._

"_Thank you, Melanie," he whispered softly against the shell of her ear, brushing his lips against the lobe, smirking when she gave a soft, contented sigh and turned her head, smiling at him lazily as he gently disentangled her arms from around his neck, dropping a quick affectionate kiss on her mouth, murmuring. "See you day after tomorrow?"_

"_Of course," she affirmed, touching her fingers to his cheek lightly, her grin turning soft and dreamy when he turned his head and kissed the inside of her wrist before dislodging her from his lap. Adjusting his shirt slightly, he watched with burgeoning amusement as she sashayed off, tossing a sly grin at Simone as she threw over her shoulder. "Shall I put Lisa on the rotation for tomorrow?"_

"_That would be great, my lovely," he purred, enjoying the little shiver that wracked her body, along with the spike of pleasure that danced over his senses at his softly spoken words, his eyes drifting over her lazily as she headed out the door with a satisfied smile. "I do enjoy a good red every now and then. Be sure to see Emma on the way out, so she can make the arrangements."_

_Grabbing his suit jacket, he shrugged into it, his face and eyes blanking as he turned to Simone, hiding his growing irritation with his one time fling with a cool look and turned back to his desk, walking behind it without a word to her__,__ as she was the one who had invaded his inner sanctum without permission. He'd fired people for less. Facing the suddenly uncertain brunette, he cursed his involvement with her, knowing that there was a reason people didn't mix business with pleasure, but then again, she had assured him in the beginning she wasn't looking for anything serious. Apparently that had been a lie._

_There really was a reason he avoided having relationships of any kind with humans._

"_I haven't seen you in a while," she commented, the slightest hint of censure coating her tone and sending another ripple of irritation over his nerves. Was she seriously questioning his movements? If she weren't so valuable to his staff, that in itself would have been a firing offense. Callous? Maybe, but he didn't answer to personal condemnations at his place of business and she knew that._

"_I've been busy," he curtly said, shrugging off her comment as he shuffled through the papers on his desk, his eyes flitting to the new message from Ryder waiting in his e-mail inbox, his fingers itching to pull it up__,__ and he reached over before halting, deciding to check it out when he was alone. "I have something important in the works right now and need to dedicate all my time to it."_

"_Something your lawyer doesn't know about?" she asked lightly, obviously fishing for information as she walked towards his desk, making his lips compress in displeasure as he straightened up to his full height, his intense gaze pinning her to her spot._

"_It's personal," he replied, his cool, forbidding tone warning her from digging any further into the matter as he turned back to his computer, dismissing her question from his thoughts as he stared at the waiting missive just taunting him to open it. "Nothing that involves my business lawyers."_

_"I see," she mused coolly, her features growing remote and expressionless as she noted his distraction, a frown marring the smooth lines of her brow as she prodded. "Does this have anything to do with the search you have Ryder compiling on Beth's friend?"_

"_What do you know about that?" he demanded darkly, freezing as the question spilled over her lips, enraged that she had been prying into a matter that was none of her business__,__ and ma__king__ a mental not to start looking for a replacement as he had a feeling that she wasn't going to last past the next couple of months. Hotshot lawyer or not, he answered to none but himself._

"_Only that you're having Ryder check into her background," she replied hesitantly, a worried look flitting over her face as she finally realiz__ed that__ she had overstepped her bounds__,__ but pressed on nonetheless, decidedly brave in the wake of the cold, all-encompassing fury radiating off him. "A thorough check. It made me curious…"_

"_Don't be," he bit out, barely keeping his temper in check as straightened once more and moved around to lean against his desk, his hand resting on his intercom to have her removed if necessary. "Stay out of it, Simone; I already told you, this is personal. It has nothing to do with you."_

"_Fine," she replied in a clipped tone, her eyes blazing slightly before she could hide her reaction behind a placid smile, her back stiffening when he continued to stare at her without offering any information. "I was just concerned this might affect the business."_

"_It doesn't," he informed her coldly, shoving off his desk to clasp her arm in a firm, but gentle grip and guided her to the door, his lips pressing into a thin line as he nodded impersonally. He wasn't going to have this argument with her he__re__ with hundreds of his employees with in 'earshot' thanks to their enhanced hearing. He'd deal with this later, after he'd figured out what was going on with another brunette. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment I need to keep."_

_...  
_

Josef really hated when people thought that they had to right to interfere and stick their nose into his affairs, but at the very least, Simone's little tirade showed him one thing – he hadn't been subtle in his interest in this woman and he had to be careful, otherwise it could come back and bite him on the ass when he least expected it. Hell, his obsession with the woman was beginning to grate on his own nerves.

It wasn't like she was even one of the great beauties of their time, but more the girl next door with a bit of an edge. Harsh as that sounds, over his four hundred years of 'life', he'd certainly seen, and even been involved with, women that would set the world agog if anyone had set eyes on them. And he was, after all, a connoisseur (and not so impartial judge) of all things beautiful and extravagant, so his fixation puzzled him when it came to the no more than standard beauty of one Elizabeth Jefferson.

But something about the pretty little brunette set him off; left him floundering, and he wasn't all that sure he liked it.

Tenting his fingertips, he stepped deeper into the shadows as Liz and Beth moved towards the front of the store, standing next to the cashier's stand as Beth made her final selection and got ready to make her purchase, his lips quirking as he overheard Liz teasing his Blondie lightly. _"He's going to love it,"_ the brunette assured with a smile, all but rolling her eyes at Beth's fretting. _"Not that he wouldn't love anything you by him. Seriously, I haven't met a man more besotted."_

Smirking, he couldn't help but agree with her assessment. He had spent years mocking Mick for his unnatural fascination with the gorgeous, blonde reporter and rolling his eyes at his less than subtle interference and interest in her life after saving her as a young child. Of course, he couldn't help but be struck by the irony of his thoughts and actions, now that a human similarly preoccupied him. Mick would have a field day if this were to ever get out, not that he'd allow that to happen.

Flicking his eyes over Liz, he pondered his sick fascination; at first he'd shoved it off as nothing more than the fact that she looked like his sire, something that unsettled him given the reports that she had burned at the stake when Europe went through another round of witch hunts during the early eighteenth century. According to the rumors, she had been caught using her abilities on the wrong person and accused, convicted and executed within days.

Truthfully, he had a feeling that it had been by a rival vamp looking to expand their territory and needing an effective way to get rid of her before invading her lands, and when they sliced her skin, only to have it regenerate instantaneously, it had sealed her fate. But of course, rumors were just that – rumors – and he hadn't seen the event with his own eyes having been sent out of the territory on business. To this day he couldn't help but wonder if she'd had warning that the Hunt was coming, and had sent him away to keep him safe.

Shaking his head to ward off his morbid thoughts, he turned back to his current conundrum, her wide ebony eyes flitting over the street contemplatively, and he could just pick up on the acid burn of her fear from where he was situated, which had him wondering just what she was hiding behind those unreadable eyes. Could she possibly be his sire and she had a stash of the cure that she had squirreled away in order to fly under the radar while she was in his territory?

Now that he studied her closely, he could see she only held a superficial resemblance to Avelina, but…but he had been wrong before and long as the cure was still out there and available, he had to make sure this girl wasn't duping them all.

"_Ready for lunch?" _the woman in question asked Beth, forcing a smile as Beth watched her suspiciously, her brow furrowing in question after Liz let out a startled cry at her light touch. Flicking his eyes back and forth between the two, he made a mental note to find out what Blondie thought of the petite brunette. Maybe she had picked up on the same things that were bothering him when it came to Elizabeth.

"_Yeah, sure,"_ Beth replied, her tone wholly unconvinced as she tugged Liz out the door and onto the street, forcing him to put up his mantle of invisibility as they passed so both women's far too shrewd, sharp eyes didn't light on him as they left the shop. What the hell was he doing here again? _"Have you ever been to Urth? We have to go there then. It's an organic café that specializes in coffee and hand-selected teas, but they have this amazing potato-leek soup and pastries to die for if you have a sweet tooth."_

Rubbing a hand through his hair in agitation, he watched them intently as they continued down the street, their arms linked between them, their shopping bags swinging in the opposite hands as the made their way to the café just three or four doors down. He briefly considered following them, wanting to observe Liz in an impersonal, casual setting, but he knew that the café was small and seating was limited. Even with all his skill at remaining in the shadows, he would have been noticed.

Besides, he still had that report that Ryder had pulled together waiting for him at the office, and he'd wasted enough time out in the sun; time to find out what secrets Elizabeth was hiding behind those inscrutable dark eyes and that fragile appearance. Somehow, he had a feeling there was a steel core residing under that deceptively soft underbelly and he wasn't about to underestimate the petite brunette. Better to know what he was getting himself into from the very beginning.

~...~

Opening the door quietly, Mick stepped into the hall, smiling as he instantly detected Beth's presence in the other room, her warm glow and scent filling the townhouse and spreading throughout his body as he slid off his jacket and closed the door silently. It had taken twenty-four years, and a lot of growing and understanding on his part, but he was finally where he belonged – happily ensconced in the arms of the only woman that could make this existence, 'life' worth living.

When Coraline had turned him against his will, leaving him flailing in a world he never dreamed existed, he had felt bereft, cheated and damned for all eternity, his Catholic upbringing being far more deep-seeded than he had expected.

He had always been lackadaisical in his faith until faced with his turning, an event that forced him to realize how much he clung to the dogma his parents had fed him from birth. Of course, Coraline's violent breach of his trust hadn't helped, but in the end, the thing that left him so conflicted was the fact that – in the eyes of the Church – he was a demon, unholy, an abomination and something to be eradicated.

It had left the 'human' in him floundering, ashamed and seeking redemption from any and all sources, including his psychotic ex-wife when she offered up a 'cure.' But, as with all things when it came to Coraline, there were strings and restrictions and danger that followed that solution. And he had almost lost Beth to a pipe dream.

Walking into the living room silently, he leaned against the doorjamb, watching his wife as she stared off into space, her brow pinched thoughtfully as she absently tapped her pen against the pad in her lap and tried to puzzle out whatever new case or story that she was working on today. Although, as far as he recalled, she'd taken the day off so she and Liz could go on their ritual 'girl's day' that they planned every couple of weeks. What could be worrying her on what was supposed to be an easy, relaxing day?

Frowning, he shoved off the doorway and headed over to her, smiling when the movement caught her attention and her pensiveness melted into pleasure. He could never get used to seeing that smile lighting up her face for him and him alone; having her in his life made everything he'd gone through over the past fifty years worth it and he completely understood what Josef meant when he said he was meant to be turned in order to be there to meet Sarah.

It was that statement that went a long way towards Mick's on acceptance of his own turning. If he hadn't been turned, he would have never met Beth and learned what it was like to find true love and acceptance; for that alone; he should be thanking Coraline.

"Hey, Beautiful," he greeted softly, pressing a soft kiss against her waiting, upturned mouth as he dropped onto the couch next to her, automatically opening his arms so that she could snuggle up against him. Brushing his lips against the top of her head, he drew her deeper into his embrace, sighing happily when she burrowed against his chest and laced her fingers with his as he asked. "Why the long face?"

"I'm…I'm worried about Liz," she replied after a moment of silence, her tone growing solemn and distracted once more as she toyed with his fingers, her typically mischievous gaze clouding with apprehension as she lifted her eyes to meet his.

"What's wrong?" he asked, wondering what could have brought this on, although, to be honest, he had noticed that the petite brunette had been acting off the last time he had seen her, when she, and the other girls from the office, had picked up Beth for the Maureen's bachelorette party last week. But he'd just assumed she was having a bad day.

"I don't know to be honest," Beth drawled thoughtfully, her brow pinching as she tried to put her thoughts into words and shrugged, flailing her hands helplessly when she failed and they obviously wouldn't form. "But something is off and I can't put my finger on it."

"Hmmm, have you asked her about it?" he queried, unconsciously slipping into private investigator mode in order to help her make sense of the matter in her head. He found that asking the right questions or making the right comments, often broke the logjam in his clients' heads and solidified the actual point they were trying to make.

"I've tried a couple of times," she huffed agitatedly, running a hand through her hair impatiently as she narrowed her eyes and stared off into the distance as if visualizing the specific scene or nuance that had disturbed her. "But she always manages to cut me off at the pass or redirect the conversation before it gets too in depth."

"Some people prefer to keep their personal life private," he shrugged, pulling back from his line of query as he reminded himself this was a friend, not a client, and that her privacy should be respected unless she specifically asked their opinion or came to them for help on whatever was bothering her.

"But we're friends," Beth protested, her lips curling into a petulant pout before smoothing into a rueful grin when he sent her an indulgent, but pointed look and turned in his arms so that her back was leaning against his chest.

"Well, all you can do is let her know that you're there for her," he pointed out diplomatically, running his fingers over her hair as she closed her eyes, her frown deepening at his next comment, drawing a wry smile from him when her eyes popped open. "You can't force her to talk about it no matter how much you pry."

"It's not prying to be worried about a friend," she refuted indignantly, her eyes flashing blue flames as they met his decidedly amused one and he cocked a disbelieving brow, causing her sink back into him into him with a huff.

"That depends on the person," he soothed, smirking when she tossed him an aggravated moue, still unconvinced. "Sometimes people have secrets they don't want others to know, friend or not. At least until they know the person can be trusted. And you've only been friends for a few months. Give her some time to open up."

"Yeah, I know you're right," she sighed, flicking him a weak smile as she toyed with the edge of her sweatshirt, nibbling on her bottom lip as if the action would repress the urge to plead her case and losing when she pressed on. "But it's been worse lately. She's unusually jittery and my gut tells me that she's in some kind of trouble."

"Jittery how?" he queried, his interest now piqued; privacy was one matter, but if Liz wasn't talking because she had been threatened or was feeling threatened, then nothing would stop him from looking into the matter, even her weak protests of being fine.

"Jumping at the slightest sound or touch," Beth said, ticking the behaviors off on her fingers methodically, her face tight and pensive once more. "Looking over her shoulder and scanning her surroundings nervously when she thinks I'm not watching, getting lost in thought and I can tell she hasn't been sleeping."

"Hmmm…" Mick hummed contemplatively, a trickle of dread curling in his stomach as she listed her growing list of concerns, his brow knitting in question as he too recalled the circles under the other woman's eyes last week. Picking absently at his pants, he made a mental note to watch the brunette a little closer.

"Honestly, you know what she reminds me of?" she continued, grabbing his attention again when she turned in his arms and faced him once more, making herself at home in his lap as she curled her fingers into the neck his shirt and stroked his skin absently.

"What's that?" he asked, meeting an intense cerulean gaze as she shifted and got comfortable, making him bite back a groan of discomfort at the obvious reaction to her movements and grimacing when she noted his reaction and grinned wickedly, giving a little playful shimmy of her hips. _Minx_.

"You know that girl I interviewed for the Seaside Stalker story?" she reminded him, smirking when he stared at her heatedly, her eyes dancing with ill-concealed devilment as she cocked her head and went back to the topic at hand, all the while knowing she'd pay for that later. "The one that would have been his next victim if he hadn't been caught?"

"Yeah?" he queried, his lips compressing thoughtfully as he let his head flop back onto the back of the couch and blew out a heavy breath as he stared at the ceiling, the familiar curl of anger and injustice burning in his gut at the thought that Liz might end up like one of those terrorized girls.

"Yeah, she has that same haunted quality," she nodded, touching a finger to her lips thoughtfully, her own eyes darkening unhappily as she recalled the details of that particular story, the images of bloody, bruised girls etched in her mind. "Like she's prey and just waiting for the predator to jump out of the shadows to take her down."

"Hmmm," he grunted, rubbing his hands over his face, brushing the daily grit from his eyes before he raised his head looked at his wife, sucking on the corner of his mouth as he offered. "How about I look into it a little, see if I can find anything or get her to talk to me? Would that make you feel better?"

"Would you?" she asked hesitantly, her eyes filling with hopeful uncertainty as she resumed chewing on her bottom lip, a faint smile touching her lips when he nodded quietly and he chuckled when she threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly as she whispered against his cheek. "Thank you; I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured, brushing his lips over her cheek softly before gathering her up into his arms and carrying her upstairs to their bedroom, suddenly feeling the need to hold her close. "I'll start looking into it tomorrow; see if I can 'sniff' something out."

~...~

Josef stared at the report in his hands, frowning, but not overly surprised that Elizabeth Jefferson didn't exist until a year ago, just before she landed in L.A. He had half-expected that she wasn't who she claimed to be, but also couldn't help holding a small hope that she'd prove him wrong for Beth and Mick's sake; although, he also knew to trust his instincts. Vampires didn't live as long as he had by being careless.

The limited information Ryder had provided showed, that at the very least, Elizabeth was the model of propriety, not a single parking or moving violation to her name in a city that was notorious for its congestion. In fact, absolutely nothing stood out in her financial, criminal, or work records and according to all the people Ryder had interviewed, she was a model citizen, quiet, unassuming, distant, kept to herself, no particular vices – it was as if she was purposely flying under the radar.

And that lead to one uneasy vampire.

Most humans had a blemish on their record somewhere, even if it was nothing more than a notation of being late to work or a routine traffic stop, complaints from the neighbors of having a loud party that went late into the night, or a co-worker bitching about them sucking up or not pulling their weight. Something. But no one could say a bad word about her; actually, they couldn't tell his investigators anything at all. It was as if she had no past, no family, the only friends she met with regularly were some girls from work and she never dated.

Hell, at this point, it would make him feel better if she even had a pet. But it was as if her life was completely transient; as if she could pick up at a moment's notice and leave without a backward glance. Shiftless. Remote. Ephemeral. Fleeting. Fly-by-night. Whatever word or expression you wanted to use. She had no ties to anyone or anything.

He didn't like that at all. Innocent people had nothing to hide.

Tossing the thin packet of papers on his desk, he crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back into his chair, staring at the ceiling blankly as he mulled his options over; he could confront her, but he didn't like walking into a situation unprepared, or he could see about getting something with her prints and see what Ryder can dig up.

The blessing of being human, and subsequently, curse for some, especially vampires. The unique set of fingerprints that identify you from the next person, and no matter how good you are at hiding or reinventing yourself, you can't hide from that. If there were anything to be found on the little brunette, it would crop up then.

Scrubbing a hand over his hair, leaned forward against the desk, reaching for his cell phone, mind made up on which course to follow in terms of his search; now he had just one more bit of business to take care of just for his own peace of mind. He really didn't want to think that _she_ was here posing as a human to insinuate herself into the life he'd carved after her disappearance, but vamps he'd previously presumed dead had a nasty habit of showing up 'alive' and well lately.

Quickly dialing a number, he waited as the line rang on the other end a couple of times, all the while cursing himself for a fool for even considering going this route, and bit back a growl of impatience when a low, husky purr carried over the line, the woman's voice laced with obvious amusement and a touch of disdain. "Josef; didn't expect to ever hear from you again. To what or whom do I owe this happenstance?"

"Trust me," he growled in truth, barely holding onto the threads of his annoyance when a peal of low, dangerous laughter rippled through the speaker, and drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair as he leaned back into it once more. "You're the last person I'd ever want to talk to again after everything you've done."

"Then why are you calling?" she sneered, her smirk coming through loud and clear despite not being able to physically see her, and he wondered again at his sanity. Was this really what he was driven to; dealing with psychotic vamps only out for his or her own gain? And did he really just think that? Further proof that he was losing it.

"As much as it galls me, I need a favor," he bit out tersely, gritting his teeth as he thought of the hundreds of other things he'd rather be doing than having this conversation; like staking himself out in the middle of the desert. He really needed some sleep and a couple of hours with his girls if this were getting to him so badly. "And you're the only one that could possibly have the answers I need."

"There is something the great Josef Kostan can't obtain himself?" she mocked lightly, a thread of true disbelief weaving through her tone, and he bit back an oath at her obvious stalling; he should have known better than to waste his time pursuing this avenue of inquiry. Everything came with a price, and he didn't really want to owe anything to this particular vamp; it would be a bad end, he just knew it. "I'm shocked."

"Look, I don't have time to play these games, Coraline," he grated impatiently, scraping his hand over his face before smiling mirthlessly and reminding her of just how much she owed him for saving her worthless life again. "I saved your ass when others would have happily left you to rot with your psychotic brothers out of a misguided sense of nostalgia, the least you can do is answer a couple of questions."

"Please, you only did it because I'm more useful to you alive than dead," Coraline snorted bitterly, giving a mirthless laugh and he couldn't help but grin evilly, knowing he finally had her full attention; she didn't like owing him anymore than he liked dealing with her. But leaving her in Lance's hands and what he considered punishment, no matter how deserved, was inhumane…against vampire council law. They were trying to blend after all; can't have the little humans in an uproar because Lance liked to play to a crowd and got a little…enthusiastic.

"Don't remind me; I'm not exactly in the best of moods and I've been known to rescind my benevolence when tested too far," he retorted coldly, his tone sharp enough to cut through glass and hopefully alerting the other vamp that he really was in no mood to play her typical games. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Depends on what it is; tell me what you want to know, and I'll let you know if it piques my interest." she lofted nonchalantly, obviously not getting the hint or simply not caring; knowing Coraline, it was the latter and he wondered if it were too late to just let her brothers have her and put the entire community out of their misery. But he'd come this far; might as well see it through.

"How on Earth did you survive that fire?"


	5. Destiny and Choice

**AN:** After a long hiatus, I have begun working on this fic once more. Unfortunately, I had several things happen in real life and I just couldn't keep up the ambitious writing pace I had previously set, and had to let some stories fall to the way side and just focus on just a few stories at a time. And now that I have finished one of my series, I can devote time to this fic once again. Just an FYI for those who are reading other fics as well - I will only being working on three to four stories at a time, and then moving on to another unfinished one as those are completed. This means, it might take awhile before I get to certain fics, but I do plan to finish what I started eventually.

Anyway, enough of that...on to the story...

* * *

_Harry Miller once postulated that, "every man has his own destiny: the only imperative is to follow it, to accept it, no matter where it leads him." A sentiment that seems so simple in thought, but is actually quite convoluted in application. He had been born into a predetermined destiny - one rigorously planned before he came to be and viewed as an honor by many; but it never fit, feeling more akin to a tight, itchy skin rather than a blessing. It chafed, that noose that tightened around his neck every day, choking him, leading him from his true heart's desire. And the more he struggled to slip his leash, the more the ties constricted, entwined, binding him to the chosen path until there was no other choice but to follow _their_ dictates, to follow that path to an inevitable end – one that would either link him to her for eternity or would lead to absolute destruction._

**Destiny and Choice**

He stood deep in the shadows, a sly smirk twisting his otherwise handsome features, blood pulsing in a steady, electric thrum as he watched his prey move gracefully through the crowd, dipping and weaving and winding through it, as if performing an intricate dance, and blending effortlessly into the background. Everyone seemed to forget her presence despite the invasive device in her hands, as she snapped away; diligently recording the emerging scene he'd so painstakingly laid for her benefit. She had always been skilled in disappearing into the woodwork, making herself invisible, almost ghost-like, which is why she lost him so often in this relentless pursuit.

He had almost given up this time; until he had so fortuitously stumbled upon her in the City of Angels, working a similar scene just a few blocks from his dingy, run-down motel room, waiting for a sign from his pretty, elusive queen. He had only left because the walls had begun to close in on him, constricting the air in his lungs as that familiar well of rage built in his head like a pressure cooker at his inability to find one pitiful human. But their connection had crumbled to mere threads, and it was no longer strong enough to lead him to her side.

Sinking back against the pock-marked wall behind him, he flicked his eyes over the slight, petite beauty covetously, that hot, need sluicing through his body once more, nearly pressing him to doing something injudicious – like steal her away before it was time.

He wasn't quite through playing with his spoils; and it was nothing more than she deserved after the inconvenience she'd put him through.

He had always known she was still breathing; or at least he had once his fury and grief had dissipated and he'd felt their weak connection thrum to life, throbbing in his head like a diseased cyst, a cancer that rapidly spread throughout his being, enveloping him in a cold, dark satisfaction. He'd cackled in delight when that steady hum filled him once more, deriving pleasure from the fact that she'd been unsuccessful in breaking the bond between them despite numerous threats and attempts to do otherwise. He'd once believed that Michael had managed to overwrite it when their bond flared into existence, but it must have just muted the connection until his untimely 'accident.'

Licking his lips slowly, a malicious thrill snaked along his spine when the brunette beauty paused, halting her next shot as she glanced over her shoulder uneasily, and then rubbed at the back of her neck as if feeling his eyes upon her. And it shot a thrill through him that he'd been detected. Scanning her surroundings nervously, she shifted anxiously, seeking out the eyes she obviously felt boring into her back, a visible shudder wracking her body. That frightened look was intoxicating, making his soul sing as he smirked and continued to blatantly stare, loving the way she jumped to his tune for once instead of leading him on a merry chase – it made his blood burn and things low in his body tighten with a desperate need that only she could quench.

She was so riveting, enchanting, beautiful in her despair and fragility.

It could have been so different; _had_ been different in the beginning, when she had trusted him implicitly and hung off of his every word, viewing him as the answer to all her girlish hopes and dreams. He'd basked in that sweet acceptance and light, knowing that it made his life, his task easier. She'd even forgiven the transgressions with Tess and Alex; and if that wouldn't turn her away, he should have been home free.

And then suddenly something changed.

She'd grown distant, watching him with chilled, suspicious eyes, as if she barely recognized him or he was a complete stranger and, eventually, stopped trusting him altogether.

And he couldn't pinpoint why.

Worse, she'd sought separate quarters, putting multiple locked doors between them – of both the physical and mental sense. He had to watch in helpless fury as she turned to his second, lavishing him with her affection, citing that Michael needed her more than he as Maria had finally disappeared deep in the night to pursue her dreams, breaking ties with the group.

It was too bad that the little blonde had met with an 'accident' before ensuring her escape; he hadn't wanted to silence that beautiful voice, but one couldn't leave loose ends – especially ones that were a bit on the chatty side.

His pretty little quarry's excuse had been just that – an excuse. And it had rankled. She was _his_ queen and should be spending time with _him,_ trying to find a way back to his home planet, rather than spending all her nights in the arms of someone insignificant to their world. Antar needed them; the _true_ prince needed them. But she'd rather live out a pointless existence on this pathetic rock of a planet rather than be worshiped as the goddess she was once they had freed their people.

Rage bubbling in his gut, he clenched his hands into fists, squeezing them so tightly that his nails cut into the palms and left bruised indentations as she dismissed him once again, going back to her job without glancing his way. As if he was unimportant in her world. It made him seethe the way she'd always overlooked him from the beginning of their acquaintance, seeming to almost look down her nose at him. Or at least that was how it felt, until fate stepped in and made him the center of her world for a very brief time.

And then he'd lost her attention once again, only a footnote in her life as she turned her notice to Michael, bestowing unto him all her love and allegiance.

It had burned – flames bright and virulent, blackening the remains of his heart – as he watched them come together, laughing and slowly falling in love right before his very eyes; although they had both denied the latter for a long time. It was laughable really. Everyone around them could see the way their eyes turned to each other, even strangers, but they were oblivious, each secretly pining until she'd left, breaking with their group; leaving him with a broken princess, the silent Buddhist monk, and the man that had stolen her away from him.

Those she'd left him with had sickened him; clinging to their human lives as if they were their only lifelines, when there was so much they could have done, so much to exploit. They had once been proud, powerful beings, that the masses had once bowed down to and they certainly could have done the same here. But they preferred hiding, shamed by their uniqueness and weakened themselves. He had briefly considered ending the lot of them, as they had become mere hindrances at that point, and then heading off on his own to rein in his errant queen, and irrevocably binding her to him.

He was thankful that he hadn't just a week later, when Michael, finally owning up to his feelings for the pretty brunette, set off on her trail, quickly tracking her down by the bond they had forged, _and never informed him of_, unwittingly leading him directly to her, bringing her back into the fold. But not before Michael had claimed her for his own, overwriting the sickly, crumbling connection between he and Liz.

He'd come close to killing them that night; incandescent in his rage that all his plans shattered with their union, unwittingly marking Michael as king. He'd pulled his knife, hidden in his boot and caressed it lovingly, envisioning how it would slice through pale skin, allowing him to bathe in the rich, crimson liquid that spilled from their throats. But he'd managed to keep himself in check; barely. He needed her and wasn't about to let a momentary lapse in judgment foil his carefully laid plans. He had to put her on the throne, bonded or not. Besides, Michael was incidental and there were many ways of disposing of unwanted rubbish.

Smiling evilly, he still recalled their disbelief and discomfort as he walked in on them, lying in bed together; bodies still entwined and cast the first doubt.

_He stared at them, that familiar rage burning in his gut as his second wrapped protectively around the girl, his hand pressed to the flat of her stomach, under her shirt, with her back pressed intimately into the cradle of his body. As if he swaddled her. As if he cocooned her from the harsh realities of the world. As if he had the right to claim the beauty although he was nothing more than a mere servant._

_Gnashing his teeth, he moved to the edge of the bed and curled his hand, tempted to strike them down with nothing more than a silent blast, or better yet, taking the knife he kept hidden in his boot since…well since _they_ tried to usurp him and slide it through that pretty little neck. How dared she turn her eyes to this lesser version of Rath? Clenching his hands into fists, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, desperately attempting to get his fury under control. He couldn't kill her yet; not until there was a rightful heir. But the temptation was so profound, whispering in his ears seductively, promising him that the pain would end if he just reached out and…no, he couldn't. Not at this time_

_But he was sick of being betrayed._

_Compressing his lips, he shunted aside the mad thoughts and refocused on the sleeping couple, his lips curling into a cruel smile as a cunning idea popped into his head. He could still work in his favor if he spun the right words. Jarring the bed with his foot, he smiled at them fondly, that sadistic pleasure careening madly through his system as he painted an innocent expression on his face. Oh, neither would fully believe it likely, but appearances must be kept. _

_He watched, chuckling on the inside as their eyes popped and they shrunk away from them as one, and Michael's arm tightened around his Queen's waist protectively, his eyes narrowing in challenge. But with her back to him, Liz never saw Michael's true reaction, nor the panic that flit across his face, as _he _greeted them both softly, his smile broadening as she deftly read between the lines to catch his intended faux meaning._

_"Michael, you finally caught up with our wayward, Queen. I knew I could count you to track her down for me."_

The flare of pain and betrayal that had etched in her eyes, matched with the helpless fury in the second's, had been beautiful to see and left him giggling internally; and he'd secretly savored her distressed cry as she pulled the sheets around her and fled from prying eyes, Michael's powerless stare following her every movement. It had been perfect - despite Michael's explanations, the damage had been done and he retained control over his beautiful quarry once more.

Or so he thought.

She had fooled him, playing at being properly submissive and cowed, hurt by the second's betrayal, while all the while they had been meeting in secret, planning their escape. Betraying him once more, leaving him alone with the monk and broken princess to start a life together.

And for that she had to pay.

Stepping into her line of sight; or really within the sight of her lens as she dutifully snapped away, he allowed his image to be recorded into black and white film, and then pulled back with a smirk as she finally stepped away from the crowd. He meant to taunt her with his image; make her realize that he was slowly closing in on her, but he hadn't expected this fortuitous event placing her easily within arms reach as she skirted the looky-loos and unwittingly headed in his direction.

It would be so easy.

And really it was a perfect opportunity to snatch her right from underneath everyone's noses - her friends were safely away and the crowd was far too busy watching the drama unfold before them to pay much attention to a lone photographer. All he had to do was walk up behind her, place her under a sleep spell and catch her as she fell into his waiting arms, completely out and helpless to his whims.

He'd then play the hero to his poor, overwrought girlfriend, whisking her away to rest in their room just two buildings down; she did get so worked up about these things after all.

No one would even flinch; and really some would likely smile and offer to help.

And he hungered for it; desired having her within his control with a need so fierce that he didn't have the words to express it fully. It could all be over in a moment.

But before he could intercept her, that damnable fate that watched over her, interceded once more, and a familiar, despised face stepped between them, walking along the shadows until he drew abreast of her and halted her trek.

Hissing in displeasure, he glared at her detective friend malevolently, silently cursing him as he hovered around her, talking nonchalantly even as he scanned the crowd for the threat he sensed, but couldn't pinpoint as she continued to snap photos from this new angle. Ducking his head as the detective looked his way; he slouched and began walking down the street as if he hadn't a care in the world, only glancing up to study the collapsed building from time to time with indifferent eyes when the detective's gaze landed on him.

Halting, he played the concerned, impassive tourist, studying the chaos around him until the detective moved on, enabling his retreat. Shooting one last malevolent glower at her unknown hero, he turned on his heel and continued on his way, plotting his next move.

Slipping around the corner, he looked back for one last glimpse of her face, and growled under his breath when his eyes met with the sight of the detective leading her from the scene with a protective arm around her shoulders. All that his planning and rigging of the building collapse had been a complete waste. He'd have to find another way to corner her.

Although, perhaps it wasn't a complete loss. There was the photo after all and she was still looking at her surroundings warily. Studying the twitchy brunette, he smirked when she glanced over her shoulder, surely feeling his eyes upon her, and then she paled dramatically when their eyes clashed and held. Drinking her fear down like a fine port - sweet, heady, intoxicating - he turned and slipped out of sight.

She was his; and this time she wouldn't escape.

... ... ...

Liz set her bag down, nerves slightly jangled as she thought she detected a familiar buzz of power in the air, but when she attuned her own, desperately grasping for that elusive taint, it slid away from her, evaporating on the wind like water in the desert heat. Frowning thoughtfully, she surreptitiously scoped out the scene, taking in the multitude of firemen and police running around, helping the volunteers with the rubble, calming the victims of the building collapse and monitoring the gathering masses.

Nothing seemed out of place; but she had been fooled into complacency once before, and in the alien world, not seeing definitely did not equate to not believing. They had a tricky way of being invisible to the naked eye if they so chose; and her enemy could be anywhere within the crowd without her even knowing they were the enemy.

Running a trembling hand through her hair, she deftly pulled it back into a low ponytail and shrugged off her fears in favor of focusing on the job she was there to do; at least for the moment. She had been hired by BuzzWire to shoot some digitals of the rubble and rescue effort to go along with a continually updating spread they planned to do for their site.

Not that it had mattered.

She had already planned to head to the scene on her own, hoping to get a few stills for her own collection, as well as on the hope she could sell them to a few local newswires; but this was even better as she always preferred guaranteed returns on her efforts. She was getting rather tired of eating ramen this week, followed quickly by sandwiches and mac and cheese. It would be great to have a little more variety in her diet, and she really didn't want to touch the nest egg she and Michael had built up on the chance she had to run once more.

_Michael..._

Her heart ached at the thought of her love, and swallowing past the lump that had grown in it; she touched her throat, her fingers automatically closing around the locket that hung there, a tangible reminder of all she had lost. Closing her eyes as that unfathomable well of grief washed over her once more, she dashed her hand over them, dispelling the tears that threatened to gather at the corners - this was no time to give into her despair. She had plenty of time for that during her cold, seemingly endless evenings.

Opening her eyes, Liz knelt down and opened her camera bag, and pulled her digital camera out, popping a fresh disk in and putting her swinging emotions on hold, numbly began taking photos of the scene. There was a comfort in holding the camera, which kept the people swirling around her in a hive of activity at a distance. And yet there was a level of connection that she could never explain as she focused on the people opposed to the actual rubble.

They were the true story unfolding.

They were the faces that gave meaning behind the event - the soot-covered fireman that pulled yet another chunk of concrete from the remains of the structure; the child standing at the edge, tears filling his eyes as he desperately waited to be reunited with his parent; the weary frown on the captain's face as he stared at some blueprints; or the kind smile of a stranger, who stopped to help because it was the right thing to do.

It made everything real, that human face, and gave life to an event that rubble could not.

It was also this face that kept her in touch with the flow of life surrounding her while she herself was forced to remain in the backseat, detached, never a participant, only the observer.

Squatting down, she braced herself on one knee and tilted her camera up, continuing to shoot as the team began pulling out, what she assumed, was the first of many victims of the collapse, their murmurs reaching an almost angry buzz as they moved around the stretcher of what she hoped was a survivor, but was most definitely of human remains if nothing else. It was at times like these that she wished she could tap into her powers and help them levitate the wreckage away, or heal the wounded; but it would present too many unanswerable questions and she wasn't going to play God.

Look what happened the last time an alien being interfered with the cycle of life.

Pushing the thought away, _before_ it could dredge up too many painful memories, she stood and made her way over to her bag, to grab out her old, beaten up Pentax ME Super. It was a dinosaur, and rarely used these days, but there was just something satisfying about working with her father's old camera. When she was behind it, she felt connected to her old life and gave her a small sense of the family she lost due to an alien king that couldn't comprehend the word 'no.'

She still wasn't certain what exactly had happened to her parents when reports of her supposed death made their way to them; she lost track of them once they'd sold the Crashdown and set off for parts unknown in the wake of finding her journal. And she didn't blame them. They didn't know she was alive, and she couldn't tell them even had she wanted to - it would have made them sitting ducks to both sides of the equation and she loved them far too much to put them in any more danger.

She just hoped that they were happy and they didn't know the way her _fairytale_ had ended.

Shaking off the bitter thoughts, Liz loaded her camera with black and white film, loving the stark contrasts and muted gray tones that the film created in such scenes. These next few shots were for her alone; a hobby that she'd began when she'd nothing better to do on the run, that quickly became lucrative as she'd learned her craft, able to sell some under the table at arts and crafts shows. And lately, she'd set up a website, selling her art under another assumed name, which deposited the money into a little known account overseas.

Another nest egg for when she finally broke free here and lost herself in another country. If she could get the necessary false documentation. But that was a problem for another day.

Studying the scene, Liz paused and looked around apprehensively as she felt eyes boring into her back once more, sending a chill snaking down her spine. Clutching at her camera until her knuckles whitened, she tugged on her ponytail, a nervous twitch that she'd developed over the years, and desperately tried to ignore the hot, malevolent gaze of the one she couldn't see as she turned back to her camera. But it was useless; that virulent gaze had already done its job in unsettling her, shattering her peace and setting her nerves on edge.

She hated the thought of running once more, but it was looking as if she didn't have a choice; if _he_ was here, then she'd have to leave sooner than she expected.

Rolling her shoulders uneasily, she took a few more shots, keeping her face cool and expressionless, (no sense in letting the little bastard know that he'd rattled her), but wasn't keen on the lighting or the limited view. Frowning, she studied the area from all potential angles and then picked up her bag; heading to what she thought would be the best vantage point. Keeping a wary eye on the gathering crowd, on the off chance she detected anything outside the ordinary, Liz weaved her way between bystanders and rescue workers silently, her muscles tense and coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice if necessary.

Yet, at the same time, she threw up a bit of power, which acted like a glamour, that made her appear unconcerned and completely comfortable and at home with her surroundings. She knew that would infuriate him more than had she called him out. He hated being ignored. And if was one of the other factions, there was no sense in alerting them that she had spied them.

But paying so much attention to certain aspects had left her at a disadvantage; especially when it came to a certain detective with catlike grace and even quieter footsteps, which is why she missed his approach until a hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her dark thoughts.

"Mick," she gasped, turning wide, startled eyes towards her would-be assailant and then rested a hand over her rapidly thrumming heart when he looked down on her with a concerned smile. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry, Liz," he returned affably, but she noted the question in his eyes as he flicked that concerned blue gaze over her taut features, quietly noting her jumpiness and filing it away for later inspection. She had to be more careful or she'd give everything away.

"I tried calling out to you, but you were so involved in your work, I guess you didn't hear me."

Mick followed that observation with a bit of a skeptical look, but Liz just nodded and smiled weakly, silently going along with his interpretation of the events. She really didn't want to explain why she hadn't heard him, nor the reason behind her shakiness. The less people involved in her mess, the better. When others cared, and questioned, they ended up dead.

Tugging at her locket absently, she smiled at the older man a touch sheepishly. "Sorry. When I get in the zone, I tend to block out everything around me. It used to annoy my parents to no end," she offered by explanation before quickly changing the subject. "So, what are you doing here anyway? Did something happen to Beth..."

"No, nothing like that," Mick chuckled, both reassuring her and yet disconcerting her as his level gaze said he hadn't been fooled by her explanation in the least. But he let it go, and looked at the remains of the building in front of them with a wry smile. "I was meeting a client nearby and heard the explosion. This is the kind of thing that Beth loved to get her fingers in before she quit BuzzWire and I hurried over before remembering she doesn't work there anymore. Knee jerk reaction. This is precisely the kind of trouble she liked back then. I was forever pulling her out of scrapes."

"Isn't that the truth?" Liz laughed, her voice sounding shaky to her own ears and she only hoped the other man didn't detect it as well. But having heard some of the stories about her friend's reporting days, she supposed that she shouldn't be all that surprised to see Mick. "Lucky for you, Ben has her picking up some computer chip for one of his cases, and doing some research on the other side of the city today."

"I don't know if I'm relieved to hear that, or now twice as concerned with that information," Mick joked, his eyes flicking over the scene, as if he too could pick up something foul in the air; Liz cringed internally, chastising herself for being so obvious in front of her far-too-observant friend. "Knowing Beth the way I do; it's bound to end in a disaster somehow."

Liz laughed at Mick's exasperated look. He did know her friend all too well.

"So, what are you doing here?" he asked as he turned his attention back to her.

"Freelance gig for BuzzWire," Liz grinned, chuckling as Mick sent her a weary look since that was the agency Beth had worked for before she got a job with the district attorney's office. He was likely wondering if Liz was going to need rescuing as well. "They asked me to take a few digital stills to accompany their later updates."

"You're not going to go off chasing bad guys, are you?" Mick asked nervously, jokingly stepping in front of her, as if shielding her from some unseen threat. If he only knew. But Liz just laughed and shook her head, a warm glow flowing over her heart at his concern nonetheless.

"Um...no," Liz snickered. "I'll leave that to you and Beth."

They fell into a companionable silence as she knelt down and fired off a few more shots with her camera, especially when the workers seemed to get excited by some find. Perhaps she should get her digital out in case something significant happened? Snapping two more shots, she stored the Pentax and took out her digital just as they pulled another survivor from the wreckage, strapping her carefully to a backboard to prevent any other damage.

Standing up, she fired off a few snaps and then dropped her camera, watching the scene forlornly, her fingers twitching to help the woman, to heal her enough so that she would survive the trip to the hospital, but she knew she had no viable reason to approach the victim, and her powers were far too noticeable even if she could. Sometimes having such gifts sucked. Turning away, she sighed and then stiffened as the weight of covetous eyes slid over her once more, sending her own dancing over the crowd once more.

Seriously, what was his issue? She wished he just get on with whatever he planned and then leave her the fuck alone.

"Are you okay, Liz?" Mick asked quietly, startling her out of her thoughts. Glancing up at the astute man, she winced and cursed herself silently for forgetting he was there.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, flashing him a bright smile that didn't quite meet her eyes, and then turning away hoping he hadn't caught that as well. Having smart, observant friends was a detriment at times like this. Licking her lips, she flicked a small glance at Mick and, again, tried to divert the attention away from herself. "You? Were you able to get that trip planned? You know the one for…what anniversary are you celebrating again?"

"When we first met," Mick replied, sending her a skeptical glance that said he was all too aware of her deflection, even as a blush stained his cheeks at her indulgent smile. "Don't look at me like that; Beth is all about these things and I merely accommodate her."

"Right," Liz drawled, her tone reflecting her disbelief. "Not a romantic bone in your body. You keep telling yourself that Mr. Roses-Just-Because-They-Reminded-Me-Of-You. I don't know why you bother to deny your romantic streak. Most men would settle for taking the woman to dinner…if the recalled the day at all."

"Yeah, well…" Mick shrugged sheepishly. "Good memory."

Liz's smile faltered at that comment, causing her to avert her eyes as they filled, recalling another someone that had an impeccable memory, and who used to make a fuss over the littlest things like Mick did. _Well, actually, two someones_, she thought with a grimace. Only the first did it in an effort to bind her to a path that had long since lost its enchantment. It was supposed to make her feel special and cared for, but only left her feeling tainted and suffocated.

But the other - the other had been lovely, and he had only done it because each of those moments had been just as important, just as meaningful to him.

Closing her eyes as Michael's face flashed before them, Liz took a steadying breath, trying to push aside the suffocating sense of grief that threatened to fall over her once more.

"Are you sure you're doing all right, Liz?" Mick asked softly, startling her out of her thoughts once more. "You look a bit pale and tired lately."

She really had to get hold of herself; this drifting off into thought and losing track of her surroundings could prove to be detrimental. Opening her eyes, she gave him a half-hearted smile and shrugged. "Yeah, of course; I just didn't sleep well last night. I got caught up in developing some pictures, and then my neighbor was having a party or something."

"Didn't call it in?" Mick asked doubtfully.

"No, point," she explained as she turned away to close up her bag, fervently hoping that he'd drop the subject. "By the time I got fed up, the party had broken up."

"Liz..." Mick began much to her chagrin, but then he paused, obviously noting her closed off expression. Sighing, he looped an arm protectively around her shoulders and said. "I hope you know that you can talk to Beth and me about anything."

"Of course I do," she nodded, feeling slightly guilty even as she said it, since she knew full well that she had no intentions of sharing this ever, if she had a choice.

"It's just that..." Mick paused again, searching for words as he studied her face carefully, and then pressed on. "Look, I don't want to pry, but Beth mentioned that you've been tired, out of sorts and jumpy for a couple of weeks now and…"

"I'm fine," she snapped defensively, her tone fully demonstrating that she really wasn't, making Mick raise his brows in surprise. Inhaling deeply, she pressed her lips together and then gave him a weak smile, and said in a calmer voice. "I am. Really. I'm just tired."

"Okay," Mick responded carefully, sounding less than convinced by her explanation, but unwilling to push further. "Beth has just been worried, and I promised to ask."

"That's so sweet of you," Liz cooed, smirking when Mick huffed and rolled his eyes at her tone, tugging on her shoulders and pulling her away from the crowd. "But really, it's nothing to worry about."

"Right," Mick nodded, his eyes conveying his doubts as he reached for her bag, and slung it over his shoulder, and then offered her his arm. "At least let me carry that for you."

"Always the gentlemen," Liz teased, trying to put them back onto a lighter note as she slid her hand onto the crook of his elbow before muttering darkly to herself. "Too bad there aren't more like you in the world."

Mick frowned, as if he caught the end of her statement, but she merely smiled at him brightly, allowing him to gently herd her towards her car. Truthfully, she was thankful to have someone there as she still couldn't help feeling like someone was watching her. Glancing back over her shoulder, she took one last look around and met with a set of familiar amber eyes. Halting mid-step, she stared, her heart and blood freezing as lips thinned and then smirked knowingly; and then she blinked and they were gone.

Swallowing thickly, she frantically searched the surrounding area, her heart thundering in her ears, but came up with nothing in the end, and she couldn't be certain if she had truly seen him, or if it had been her eyes playing tricks on her.

Shivering, she turned back to the man beside her, squirming uncomfortably under his hard gaze. She had utterly forgotten he was there, watching her every movement in her panic; but this time she didn't even bother to shield the confusion and frustrated fear that swam in her eyes. She knew that it was pointless as he'd already seen too much. Staring into suspicion-riddled eyes, Liz tried to come up with a plausible explanation for her behavior, but drew a blank as Mick spoke once more.

"I know you've got secrets, Liz; and I know that you don't want to rely on anyone. But there _will_ come a time when you must seek help. When that happens; when that time comes, just know that I'm here for you and willing to do so, okay?"

Liz nodded miserably, her throat constricting as her eyes filmed over; she hadn't felt this cared for since...well, since Michael, and she couldn't help but feel thankful that she had met Beth, and subsequently Mick through her. Even if she couldn't bring herself to pull them into her mess. Blinking the tears away, she swallowed harshly and allowed Mick to lead her away, wondering how she'd gotten so lucky to find true friendship again.

... ... ...

Mick entered his office silently, his mind a million miles away - or at the very least, about twenty-five miles away with a certain twitchy brunette mystery - which is why he failed to notice that he wasn't alone. Tossing his keys onto the desk, he went to his fridge and pulled out a bag of blood and poured its contents into a highball glass before shutting the fridge once more. Walking back to his chair, he sipped at the nutrient-rich liquid and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Being out in the sunlight, while not fatal for a vampire, was certainly not the best thing either, and bright rays really took it out of him today. As an investigator, he often tried to keep his business relegated to the evening, but sometimes he didn't have much of a choice, but to head out in peak sunlight hours if he wanted to get his job done.

Or in this case, if he wanted to observe his new mystery out in the open when she wasn't aware that she was being followed.

But he really hated the drain the sun put on his system; one only rectified by drinking the red liquid that his darling ex-wife had chained him too in a moment of absolute selfishness on their wedding night. That certainly hadn't been the surprise he had been expecting when she said she had a gift for him. He truly despised her for that.

Setting his glass of blood onto the desk, he sank back into his chair wearily, shunting aside the bitter thoughts that always came with the memory of Coraline, and allowed the life giving force to work its magic while he turned over the puzzle of Liz in his mind. He had spent several minutes observing her before he had made his approach, all the while lying about why he had been there in the first place - something that still twinged his conscience due to his strict Catholic upbringing.

But had he said he was there to check up on her, well, he knew that would have raised her hackles and made her shut up tighter than a clam. And those few moments had served their purpose - they told him that Beth had been right; something was stalking the pretty brunette, but he couldn't figure out just what.

Mick stared blankly at his glass, picking it up and turning it in his hands as he ran through their conversation once more, ferreting out any useful information; but nothing stood out other than her behavior, which was at odds with her casual commentary. Liz had been impressively tight-lipped about the situation and that in itself made him leery. Even her behavior wasn't obvious unless you knew what you were looking for (or had a super scent like he did). To the undiscerning eye, she appeared to merely scan her environment for potential photos. But he had detected the sharp, acrid scent of fear and knew better.

Not to mention the panic that flared in her eyes.

That look had disturbed him, cementing the suspicions Beth had raised in the back of his head with her comments on Liz acting like a stalking victim. She was being hunted; although by whom, (or even what), he couldn't fathom. His immediate guess was an ex-boyfriend or husband, but he knew that Liz's previous significant other had died in a fire; and she hadn't mentioned anyone else of significance in their few conversations.

He didn't for one moment believe that trumped up party excuse, light sleeper that he knew her to be from observation when she slept over one late night; which also raised a red flag. As a vampire, he naturally moved silently, and when he came out for a drink that night, she had sat bolt upright, her eyes wild with panic, almost as if she'd sensed him coming - a habit that wasn't natural for most humans.

Finishing the blood off with a large gulp, Mick set the glass aside and rubbed a weary had over his face, making a mental note to keep better tabs on the brunette. He'd backed off on his questioning as he caught the quicksilver flash of panic in her eyes; one that spoke of dark secrets, and he hadn't wanted her to feel threatened, causing her to run before he could help. As he was certain she would do if pressed too hard.

But that also didn't mean he was dropping the reaction altogether. He'd long despised men, and women for that matter, that preyed upon those weaker than themselves and he wasn't about to let his friend be a victim to some sick fuck's twisted view of love and courtship.

"You look pensive," a voice carried across the room, startling him out of his deep, troubled thoughts with a silent cry.

"Fucking hell, Josef," he growled, bristling when the elder vampire just smirked at his reaction. And then he grew annoyed with himself for failing to notice another presence in the room. It was difficult to fool a vamp's senses, especially that of smell, and he didn't like that he had been so concerned with other matter's that he'd missed his friend sitting directly in front of him. Had it been an enemy...well, he didn't want to think about that. "Warn a man before you do that."

"I'm surprised I was able to catch you off guard," Josef replied, his tone hardening as the smirk faded into a stony expression. Mick winced internally as he could just hear the lecture vamping up behind the cool, implacable gaze that landed on him. "I do hope that I don't have to remind you how detrimental that can be; it's a newbie mistake and one we can't afford. What if I had been Lance or someone else who isn't particularly enamored of your continued existence?"

"I'm well aware of how foolish my actions were," Mick responded testily, annoyed that his friend of nearly fifty years had chastised him as one would a fledgling; although, he supposed he was still considered one compared to a vampire Josef's age.

"Are you?" Josef continued implacably, raising a single brow when Mick huffed his displeasure, but seemed otherwise content that he'd made his point effectively. "Do I dare to ask what, or should I say _whom_, has you so distracted that you completely missed the fact that I have been sitting across from you for the past ten minutes? Had I been anyone else..."

"Yes, yes, I get it! Bad vampire," Mick snapped, rolling his eyes mentally when Josef compressed his lips and steeple his fingers thoughtfully. "You needn't belabor the point."

"So?" Josef prompted after a moment's silence.

"So, what?" he replied impatiently, unable to help feeling a bit churlish at the reprimand. He hated that his friend had been witness to his folly, as Josef didn't suffer fools and he was well aware that he hadn't heard the end of his rash behavior, even if Josef had tabled it for the time being.

'Want to fill me in on just what has you so worked up that you failed to take the necessary precautions?" Josef asked, a small frown tugging at his lips as he studied Mick.

On his part, Mick remained silent for a long moment, wondering if he should confide his suspicions about Liz to his friend as he idly played with the highball sitting on his desk. Josef had been acting strangely around the brunette, inordinately interested in her comings and goings since they'd met at the party; something that was unlike him. He'd always been aware that Josef was a bit of a womanizer, and liked to surround himself with cream of the crop, but that didn't explain his fascination with Liz.

While Mick adored the brunette to pieces, and thought she was reasonably attractive, she wasn't Josef's usual fare. He tended to go for the glitz and glam - stunningly beautiful women, who weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but were spectacular arm candy and knew their place, which was on the fringes of his life. Liz...Liz didn't fit those requirements. She _was_ beautiful in that understated way, but she was far too intelligent and independent to last as one of Josef's 'girls' (read freshie).

The again, when he considered Sarah and Simone, perhaps he was wrong. She might just have the requirements to win a part of the vampire's heart that had been closed off since Sarah's failed turning. But whatever it was, Josef's interest was heightened in a way that concerned Mick; perhaps even to the point of following her? It would kill two birds with one stone if he said something, effectively warning his friend that he was getting sloppy if that were the case.

But somehow, he doubted it; his instincts were screaming that Liz's problem was more than met the eye.

"Liz," he admitted finally, his eyes flicking over his friend seriously as the other man perked up instantly at the name.

Smirking internally, Mick watched as Josef struggled between asking more and waiting him out; and then standing without a word, he grabbed the now empty highball, and walked towards the sink. Two could play this game and he really wanted to see how long Josef would wear the unconcerned, indifferent mask he presented to the world despite his interest in Liz. Letting the silence stretch between them, he carefully rinsed out that glass out and set it to the side before he turned, just catching the concern flitting over his friend's face before it blanked once more.

So he was right; Liz did affect him somehow.

"Beth mentioned that she had been acting odd a few nights ago," he continued as he walked back to his chair.

"Odd?" Josef queried, keeping his voice light and indifferent as he picked at an invisible piece of lint on his suit; Mick snorted internally as he sat down, not at all fooled by the bland smile Josef pasted on his face as he asked. "How so?"

Oh, yes; Josef was inordinately interested in his and Beth's friend. Most of the time, when Mick mentioned a case or one of his human contacts, Josef was dismissive and didn't bother to press for information. He felt they were beneath his notice unless they threatened his empire. The only human to have crossed that boundary was Beth, whom the vampire had grown reluctantly fond of through their investigations. And the fact that he asked what he meant at all was a great indication of how much Liz had rattled him.

"She's been on edge lately," he replied as he sank back into his chair, fixing Josef with a searching gaze, and hid a smile behind his hand when Josef looked at him sharply. "Beth says that she' been acting jumpy; like a cornered mouse, always looking over her shoulder and seems to be losing sleep. And from what little I've observed today, Beth is right. Liz...she's acting as if she's being watched or stalked."

"Really," Josef replied blandly; but Mick could tell that his words had discomfited the vampire. It wasn't his face or actions that gave it away; no, it was his complete lack of reaction that showed Josef's hand. It was always what he _didn't_ do that spoke volumes. How intriguing.

"Yes," Mick continued, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully as he looked away from Josef; there was something there. He knew in his gut Josef was up to something, but that honed instinct still chattered that Josef wasn't the problem. And he didn't plan to ignore that voice. He had when it came to Coraline and look what that got him. "She's being hunted; I'm sure of it. And it has me concerned quite frankly as she doesn't want to talk about it."

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually," Josef said as he slapped his hands on his knees and stood abruptly, and headed towards the door with careless shrug. "I best be going. People to corrupt, corporations to take over; you know the deal."

"Oh, hey," Mick called to his back. "Was there something you needed?"

"Nothing in particular," Josef shrugged, stopping just inside the door with a frown. "Just checking in before I crush yet another CEO when I tell him he now works for me."

"Ah, checking up on me, Daddy?' Mick teased, smirking when Josef shot him a look of utter contempt. "How sweet."

"I am _not_ your sire," Josef scoffed with more exasperation than true anger, making Mick snicker at the long standing joke. Well not that long as it had been only a few months prior that Josef had returned him to his vampire state after taking Coraline's little temporary human fix. Shaking his head, he chuckled as Josef sniffed. "I feel absolutely no tie of responsibility towards you in the least."

"Of course not," Mick smirked. "That's why you randomly show up at my place to check up on me and ask how my day's been...Dad."

"I should have just let Lance stake you and been done with it," Josef muttered as he opened the door."

"That wouldn't have killed me," Mick called after him.

"No, but at least you'd shut up and it would give me a measure of peace if I had," Josef sneered as he slammed the door behind him.

Mick snickered to himself, dragging a thick pile of pending and current cases over to him with a grin at Josef's grandstanding, before getting lost in his work.

... ... ...

Josef exited the building much more solemn than he had entered it, his mind still stuck on the information that Mick had given him in regards to Liz's behavior; he had thought he'd been subtle in his observations, but apparently not enough. Then again, he had always been a bit rash when it came to his desire, so he might not have shielded for all he was worth, and somehow she had picked up on his presence. He had to wonder if it had anything to do with the underlying power he had sensed coursing through her veins, just barely detectable to those who chose to notice.

And he had; chose to notice that is.

How could he not when she brought so many memories to the fore?

Mick had obviously missed that surge of electricity rippling around her in a thin coat; but that was to be expected given that Mick was distracted by all things Beth, not to mention that he was nearly four times the other vampire's age. He was far more skilled in searching for that otherworldly power that lurked under seemingly human faces.

And then there was her scent - it was human, but not. There was something more there, something different, something he'd never scented before and it confused him.

And he hated that; he intensely disliked enigmas walking around in his territory. It often lead to things getting messy, fast. Especially when they tugged at his senses the way this human did.

Shadowing his face from the sun, he stepped out from beneath the canopy above the doorway and hurried to his waiting town car, sliding in and firmly closing out the bright rays. Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he settled in for the ride, still pondering the mystery of Elizabeth Jefferson as his chauffer slid into the driver's seat.

"Where to, Mr. Kostan?" Jerald asked, looking at him with a touch of concern from the rearview mirror.

"To the office," he answered absently, waving off the other man's concern as he got lost in his thoughts once more.

The information that he'd gotten from Coraline had been enlightening, but not helpful in the least. After much aggravation, and figuratively pulling teeth (which he'd deal with at a later date), he'd finally confirmed beyond a doubt that Liz wasn't Avelina; his sire was indeed dead, having burned at the stake as a witch. Despite the similarities in their appearances, Liz wasn't on the compound and she wasn't even aware that vampires existed except for in movies. It was just a weird coincidence.

Or was it?

Sarah had also reminded him a lot of Avelina; she had a lot of the same traits and physical feature as his sire, which is why he'd been drawn to her. Sarah. The one time he'd even considered turning a human and it was an utter failure. Rubbing a hand over his chest, trying to soothe the ache that burned every time he thought of his lost love, Josef closed his eyes and swallowed harshly, the saliva trickling down his throats like shards of glass. He missed Sarah every day, but he also knew that Beth had been right when she talked him into letting her go. It hadn't been fair to her, and Sarah wouldn't have wanted to live in a perpetual coma on some farfetched hope that she might one day awaken.

Opening his eyes, he shunted the memories aside and focused on the task on hand. He had learned long ago that dwelling on the fragility that was human life would drive him mad if he let it; and he couldn't afford that in his position. The vampire that didn't adapt and grow, was a vampire that got careless, quickly leading to death. And he wasn't quite ready to meet his maker - either of them.

Coraline had settled his lingering doubts on Avelina, mentioning that she and Lance had been witness to the fact that his sire had been destroyed and there was no way Liz was pulling...well, a Coraline. If anything, Coraline had postulated that Liz was a distant relation, a descendant of Avelina's line. And that he could believe.

But her sudden appearance into his life still disturbed him; although now, it was due to the unknown entity that was in his lands rather than a personal threat. He didn't like her running around his city unchecked, potentially causing problems for him and his tribe. But what could he do? She a firmly ensconced in his life via Beth and Mick; and he couldn't very well just up and make her disappear due to that friendship. Especially now that Mick was on the alert that something was amiss in Elizabeth Jefferson's life.

Shaking his head, Josef forced his thoughts away from his latest quandary and picked up his phone to check his messages to see if there was anything that needed his attention before he told the useless CEO of his new acquisition that he was being demoted. Scrolling through his email, he sighed at the endless stupid questions shunted his way - ones that were easily solved had the persons sending them had an ounce of creativity and a functioning brain cell - and then froze when he spied the words, _Pink Petticoat,_ in the subject line of one.

It was Coraline's code name; one they had set up when she was fleeing from her brother and his henchmen as a way to get in touch if something of importance came up. Given that there was no love lost between them due to the way she'd treated Mick, and that she'd never bothered to send him a note before, he knew that whatever lay behind that innocuous title was going to irrevocably fuck up his world.

Clicking on the note with a heavy sense of trepidation, he quietly read it and then swore under his breath at the contents:

_'Your recent interest in a certain substance, as well as my faked death, has been noted by those who are in charge. Be prepared for a visit by those that remain nameless.'_

Fuck. Just what he needed on top of everything else - an inquiry from The Elders.

... ... ...

Liz stood, her muscles stiff and joints creaking from sitting in one position for so long, but she also couldn't help feeling a certain level of satisfaction as she clicked the enter button, sending the digital photos she'd been editing to BuzzWire. The ones she'd sent on told the story in perfect, gritty detail and she couldn't help the pride that sung through her veins at the quality. She supposed she could have sent the lump of them, but she didn't feel the need to overwhelm the server with subpar images and she was certain Ellie, her editor, would appreciate her discretion.

Yawning, she glanced at the clock and started at how much time had passed; no wonder she was feeling so stiff and her stomach felt as if it were trying to gnaw a hole in itself - she had started her project well over six hours ago. Running a hand through her hair, she sighed and quickly made her way into the kitchen where she grabbed a yogurt and a banana to ease the hunger pains and wondered if she should bother cracking open her camera and developing the black and whites tonight.

On the one hand, she really wanted to get some new stuff out for her website; but on the other hand, she knew that whenever she entered her darkroom, she lost all sense of time as she coaxed images from her film and she did have to be up for an appointment tomorrow. Something about shooting some dogs for a program, a task she was dreading as animals were so much more difficult to work with than humans.

Groaning, she tossed aside her yogurt container and the banana peel, and wondered not for the first time why she'd taken the job as it promised to be nothing but a headache. But it was also good money, so she'd just have to suck it up, and pretend that there was nothing more important than a bunch of yappy, fluffy dogs dressed in ridiculous outfits. She could do this.

Really.

Sighing as the little voice in the back of her head mocked her for her false cheer, Liz grabbed her camera bag and headed into her makeshift darkroom, which really had been a second bathroom before her powers got hold of it (she'd have to set that to rights once she moved on) and promised herself that she'd only work a couple of hours. She completely ignored the little voice that expressed its doubt at that. It knew her far too well and she was too tired to protest its very realistic claims.

Great, now she was having conversations with the voices in her head; that couldn't be good.

After getting her film ready, Liz went through the motions of developing it and then cut the finished film in strips before placing it on her enlarger in order to make a proof sheet. Having done this so many times before she went on automatic - enter the light proof box, load her film, seal the containers shut, place them in the developer bath, set them, rinse them, (developer, stop bath, fixer, water), pull them out, dry them with a gentle zap of her powers, and then make her proof sheets (developer, stop bath, fixer, water).

It was a nice comfortable routine that put her in the zone and calmed the jitters form earlier.

Yawning again, she pulled her proofs from the water with her tongs and gave a little flick of her hand to dry the paper. She didn't do that for her real photos, but since this was just a proof paper so she could see just which pictures she wanted to develop, she wasn't as careful. Setting the tongs back in the bath, she took the proof outside to get a better look at in the light, snagging a lens on the way, and then froze as a familiar set of eye stared out at her from the middle of the page.

The face was blurry, it was hard to make out the lines of his features considering he hadn't been the focus, but those eyes - cold, calculating, just a touch off - she'd recognize them anywhere. Crying out, she dropped both the lens and the paper, jumping back from them as if they had burned her and then stared in disbelief as the proof that he found her once more fluttered innocuously to the floor.

How had he tracked her down? She had been so certain she'd left no clue behind.

Drawing a shuddering breath, she swallowed convulsively as that low burning fear that was always present in her mind splashed over her like ice water, sending a chill through her body. She had to get out of there. She had to run, to find somewhere new, to lose herself and hopefully him once more. She had to...but she couldn't seem to move as memories assaulted her - pain slicing through her body, like a million hot needles as the bond between she and Michael snapped, the hazy void that surrounded her as she frantically sought him, only to be pushed back into her body time and again, the smell of phantom soot and the burning of flames as his body dissolved, the scream that seemed to rent her inside out as...

Gasping, Liz barely jerked herself out of the vicious cycle, her body shaking with the effort as she stared once more at the slip of paper that had changed her life once more. And then needing to confirm her suspicions, she stepped back over to it and pick up the proof sheet with trembling fingers, and just stared with growing despair.

He was there plain as day.


End file.
